


The Stuff of Legends

by ryttu3k



Category: Legend of Zelda, Legend of Zelda: Four Swords, Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time, Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, M/M, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-29
Updated: 2012-06-29
Packaged: 2017-11-08 19:43:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 57,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryttu3k/pseuds/ryttu3k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a normal life, with normal friends in a normal school with normal dramas. But when things start to become rather abnormal, the world will never be the same again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Beginning and an End

"Once upon a time, the land of Hyrule did not exist.

Then three golden goddesses saw the emptiness in the void that they existed in, and they decided to create a world - a beautiful land, filled with life that they would create to live in it, sculpted like a piece of art.

The Goddess of Power, Din, sculpted the land with her flaming arms. She carved out valleys and piled the rock high to make mountains. She flattened out plains and fields, built rock to build on and soil to grow things on. But the land was still empty.

The Goddess of Wisdom, Nayru, then created the laws of the land. She created blue skies during the day and black skies at night, created the tracks for Din's proudest creation, the sun, to cross the daytime and her own creation, the moon, to light up the night. She made water to flow in the valleys and fill the lakes. But still, the land was empty.

So then the Goddess of Courage, Farore, decided to fill the land with creations that lived. She made the blades of grass that covered the fields, and the trees that became the forests, and the flowers that lit everything up. And she made the animals and beasts - birds in the sky, fish in the lakes and rivers, animals to run over the fields.

But it still seemed empty. So they created beings in their images - people that could speak and understand and interact with the world. They gave them gifts - some were granted with ears to hear their whispers, some were given eyes to see the truth. They made people for the four corners of Hyrule - the forests, the deserts, the mountains and the lakes - and let gave them the rules for them to follow.

And then they departed the mortal realm, leaving behind a relic - three golden triangles, each imbued with the power of the Goddesses. One that was worthy could claim the golden triangles, and if they were pure of heart, their greatest desires would be granted.

But the people were greedy. They all wanted the golden triangles, and tried to get to the land where the triangles resided. _In a realm beyond sight, the sky shines gold, not blue. There, the Triforce's might makes mortal dreams come true._ And the people started to fight.

And then, one day, a dark king whose heart held no good found the Triforce. And the land it resided in began to sicken. To fight the dark king, the people of Hyrule banded together, and a young man wielding a sacred sword came forth to save them. The sword was so powerful that only one pure of heart and strong of body could wield it, and the one who was able to draw it from the stone became the Hero of Time."

"What was the Hero's name?"

"The Hero's name was Link, of course.

With the legendary sword, the Hero, along with seven wise sages, managed to seal the dark king in the Sacred Realm where he could no longer harm them. And peace returned to Hyrule.

But then, centuries later, when memories of the war had faded, new problems started up. Pestilence and drought that couldn't even be fixed by magic ravaged the land. The King of Hyrule, along with his Knights, wondered if it was the dark king again, but the seal to the Sacred Realm - now the Dark World - was still sealed. And then a sorcerer came, wielding magic that no one had ever seen, and stopped the disasters.

In gratitude, the king made the wizard his advisor and the heir to the wise ones that had sealed the dark king in the first place. And peace returned... for a time.

And then, one day, a young boy woke from his sleep to hear a young girl's voice calling to him - "Help me, I am in the castle dungeon." And the boy bravely fought his way to the dungeons, where he discovered the girl was none other than the Princess of Hyrule, and that the wizard had deceived the king, ordering him to capture seven maidens - the descendents of the seven wise ones who first sealed the dark king. And the Princess was the seventh maiden.

With the young boy's help, she escaped to a sanctuary. There, a wise old man told the boy about the Master Sword, the legendary sword once used by the Hero of Time. But to use it, first, he had to gather up three pendants of virtue.

The first pendant, the Pendant of Courage, was found in the Eastern Palace, an old palace filled with living statues that attacked on sight. But he found the pendant, and brought it back to the old man, who gave him the tools necessary to go to the next pendant.

The second pendant, the Pendant of Power, was in the Desert Palace. This one was full of sand and unpleasantness, but he fought his way through and claimed the pendant.

The third one was the Pendant of Wisdom, and that was found in the Tower of Hera, high up in the mountains. And after many dangerous battles, he claimed that pendant, too.

Finally, the boy ventured deep into the Lost Woods, a frightening place that bewitched the senses and made people go mad and become lost. Some went in and never found their way out again. But the boy was brave, and he had the three pendants. He fought his way through, and there he found the Pedestal of Time, where the sacred Master Sword rested.

The boy reached out for it, and the sword slid out of the stone like it was made for him. And at that moment, the boy awoke as the true successor of the Hero of Time - the Hero destined to save the land again.

But that's a story we'll have to tell another day."

"Aww, that's not fair!" the three children protested, practically clambering over each other to reach for the book that their guardian was reading. She gave them an apologetic smile, tousling the pouting Link's hair, pulling the blankets up around Ilia. Only Saria look reasonably good-natured about it - she was already seven years old, she had heard this story before.

"The Hero saved everyone, right?" Link asked softly, tugging his own blankets up to his chin. "Was he called Link, too?"

"Of course," Uli smiled, and stood, setting the book on the dresser and reaching to turn out the lights. "And don't worry about them, children. After all," she said, and she smiled, "It's only a story."


	2. One Winter's Day

With a bang, the cracker went off.

A ragged cheer went up - the last of the holiday snaps, spewing streamers and silly hats and corny jokes, in the pudgy hands of a boy grinning like he had just won the lottery. From beside him, an older boy grinned.

"Well done, Mido," he smiled, patting him on the shoulder, "You got the very last one. Last lucky last!"

Mido grinned back broadly, wearing his paper crown like it was gold. "Of course I did," he boasted, "I'm the king here!"

"You sure are," the older boy laughed, scanning the room once before sighing and retreating to the kitchen. "I'm getting too old for this," he muttered, leaning back against a cabinet.

"Nonsense!" a large, jovial man boomed - still dressed in his Giftgiver costume, the hot pink oven mitts he was using to check on the roast turkey looked utterly innocuous. "You're only young, Link," he continued, "Got your whole life ahead of you."

Link smiled a little sheepishly, straightening up a little. Bo, the owner and manager of Kokiri Forest Home for Children, was a nice guy, but oh, he had little skill in the art of pep talks.

"Yeah," he started, trailing off before really ever starting. "I guess... I just wonder how many more of these I'll see here. I can't stay here forever - I'll be seventeen in a few months."

And then he would have only one more year before having to leave the Home, the only home he had ever known. He had been too small to remember anything before been found on their doorstep, a wailing disoriented toddler, a piece of paper with his name, date of birth, and a hasty apology scrawled on it pinned to the green overalls he had been wearing.

He didn't miss his unknown parents - it was hard to miss what he had never known - but this place, he would miss. This place had given him shelter and a semblance of family.

So lost in his thoughts (and Bo caught up in checking the turkey; it was almost time for the solstice dinner) that he missed the commotion outside entirely until one of the boys barged in, almost startling Bo in to dropping the large carving knife on his foot.

"Guess," the boy gasped, and doubled over for a moment to catch his breath. Link gave Bo an amused look, reaching over to tentatively pat him on the back.

"Breathe first," he advised, a slight smile on his face, "Then talk."

The boy nodded, looking pained. "Guess... what?" he finally managed, a manic grin splitting the freckled cheeks, practically bouncing from foot to foot as he recovered. "There's a guy here with a lady that looks like a bodyguard and some other people and Ilia said that he was the _Prime Minister_!"

Bo blinked. "...The hell?" he started, "It's not an election year, is it, Link?"

But Link was already halfway out of the kitchen, waving an absent hand back at him and an uncharacteristic huge grin on his face. If the Prime Minister was here at his little orphanage, then hopefully...

Skidding to a stop in front of the front door, his grin widened further when he saw who was accompanying the Prime Minister. "Link!" squealed the girl beside him, and promptly threw herself into his arms.

"Whoa," he teased, hugging her back fiercely, "You're going to knock me over, Zel."

Zelda simply smiled as she drew back, allowing Link to see the other two there - a statuesque, almost intimidating woman, her white hair pulled back tightly and a stern expression on her face, and a boy Link's age, blonde hair half-covering the hesitant smile on his tanned face.

"...Hey," he said softly, glancing down to hide his slight smile.

"Hey yourself," Link smiled back, pulling him into the hug as well. And then he drew back, frowning a little. "What are you guys doing in a crappy little town like this?"

Almost bouncing on the balls of her feet, Zelda started, "We-ell..." then stopped. "You tell him, Sheik!"

Sheik gave another sheepish smile, hands in his pockets. "Impa and Daltus decided we needed to get some fresh air, so they booked a cabin up in the National Park. And you're invited," he added.

Link grinned almost immediately - he was tempted to bounce like Zelda, but thought better of it. A camping trip - admittedly, any cabin booked by the Prime Minister of Hyrule would almost certainly have luxuries such as central heating and television and indoor plumbing, but it was still an escape out to the woods. And with his two best friends, no less.

"When do we go?" he said cheerfully, and Sheik stifled a snort.

"Still as impatient as ever," he teased gently, then shrugged fluidly. "Tomorrow. We just came by today to arrange everything with Ilia's father - it'd be most convenient if you came back to the city with us afterwards and just stayed over for a night or two before the dorms open again."

Indeed, Daltus Nohansen was already in discussion with Bo, who looked about ready to wet himself at the prospect of talking to the Prime Minister. It was common knowledge that Bo had political aspirations; he had once served as town mayor when Link had been a little younger.

The only one who had still yet to move was Impa, Sheik's aunt and guardian - instead, she was keeping half an eye on Link and his friends and half an eye on the animated discussion - they had moved on from discussing whether Link would be permitted to go camping with them to how to get into politics, Prime Ministerial life, and the undesirable aspect of having to deal with troublesome voters.

"Well, it looks like you're set, Link," Impa said dryly, "If the manager here can ever recover from the shock of meeting a real live politician."

"Aw, Bo's harmless," Link shrugged, grinning a little. "He got a taste of power, it went to his head a little, I guess."

"Indeed." If Impa's voice had got any drier, it would have resembled the Gerudo Desert (located in Hyrule's south west, home to the Gerudo Desert Army Training Grounds, the Temple of the Spirit, and some fascinating textiles popular in every corner of the land). "He seems to be simply burning with anticipation."

For a moment, Link just blinked at her, confused about the odd phrase - then the smell of burning _did_ filter through.

"Aw, _Three_!" he cried, and raced off to the kitchen to save the turkey.

 

The next morning, Link awoke at an obscenely early hour, the sun only just filtering in over the horizon. The benefit of being the eldest in the entire home meant that he was one of the select few to be granted his own room (Ilia, one of his closest friends and the daughter of Bo the owner, was another), and he put it to good use - practically turning it upside down to hastily pack both for his return to the city (and school - oh Thrice, he had to go back to school soon) and for the trip into the forest.

Scarf, gloves, fuzzy green hat with an orange pompom that made Zelda giggle, oversized jacket - those, he laid out on the unmade bed, boots given a quick polish and sitting on the floor next to the door. In to his backpack, he shoved clothes with no concern about folding them up neatly - what was the point, he reasoned, if they were only going to get wrinkled again when he wore them?

With a slight hesitant pause, he crouched beside his bedside table then swiftly retrieved two packages out of the drawer - why he was moving so furtively, he wasn't certain, especially considering that there was no one around to see it. Those, he stuffed in the bottom of his bag, ensuring the paper didn't catch on anything on the way down.

He hadn't intended to give Sheik and Zelda the gifts until he had returned to the city. Now, he could actually give them to them on solstice - or, at least, the day after.

Solstice the day before, New Year's Eve that night, the Hyrulean New Year the next day. They would stay in the cabin until the third of the new year, then make the trip back to the city - then, it would be another two days before school started again after the winter break.

The winter break, Link decided, was entirely too short.

A glance at the clock - only twenty-four past six, Link realised with a start - sighing, he swept his winter gear to the floor and flopped back on the bed. There was at least another hour and a half before Sheik and Zelda would arrive to pick him up... no one could begrudge him if he closed his eyes for a little while...

Link awoke an hour and three quarters later, glancing at the clock and practically falling off the bed with a yelp. Scooping his winter gear up with one arm, his backpack slung on to his back, and grabbing the handle of his suitcase with his free hand, he nearly kicked the door open, darted out, slammed it shut, and bolted down the stairs like the Poe were after him.

"Sorry," he panted, nearly doubling over as he reached the common room, then stopped. Bo was there, a sleepy-eyed Ilia curled up next to him; Zelda and Impa both had cups of tea in their hands, Daltus clutching a leftover slice of cake from yesterday and using it to emphasise whatever point he was making. Sheik was squashed into a corner looking a tad miffed - he was, Link noted, the _only_ one who didn't look one hundred percent relaxed.

"Ah!" Daltus boomed jovially, "The sleepyhead finally shows himself." 

Link flushed, ducking his head. "Sorry, sir," he said sheepishly, "I did wake up on time, I just... went back to sleep."

Sheik, squashed in his corner, stifled a snicker.

It wasn't long after that that they set off - cups of tea were finished and taken to the kitchen, the slice of cake-slash-pointer scoffed down, bags gathered up - Link's suitcase would be left at the Home until time came to return to the city, his backpack set in the back of the car. And then he hugged Ilia goodbye (it wouldn't be long, he reassured her, they'd both be back at school by the end of the week), took a seat in the back of the car next to Sheik, and they were off.

The cabin was perhaps an hour's drive away through mostly pristine forest - what passed for Kokiri town disappeared within minutes, giving to dense forest on all sides. It was still green - pine and spruce keeping the colour where the deku and oak had already lost their leaves.

Here and there, patches of white were visible where the snowfall from a few weeks earlier had yet to melt - snow was rarer in Kokiri than further north, like Sheik's home city of Kakariko, but falls still happened with some regularity.

The drive was cheerful enough - with Impa driving and Daltus narrating directions from the guidebook he had acquired earlier, he was left happily conversing with Sheik and Zelda. Their solstice had been spent travelling; it was a small price to pay for a few days in pristine forest, Zelda had rationalised. Sheik, never one to argue, had agreed.

They had settled in (Daltus had expressed concerns when they had discovered that there were only four beds over three small rooms; Zelda had cheerfully said she'd take one of the two single beds in one room and share with Impa, and she'd leave the double bed to Link and Sheik - they could handle sharing a bed, surely?) and unpacked. The morning had been spent relaxing in the cabin - Zelda had found a game of Trivial Pursuit and managed to handily defeat all four in one fell swoop. Link had almost fallen off his seat in excitement when he had seen the brochure that promised horse riding from the leisure centre nearby; Sheik had reminded him that he did, in fact, have his own horse and that he'd be able to ride her again in only a few days.

He had given Sheik and Zelda their presents - only small, he couldn't afford much, but Sheik seemed to like the soft scarf and Zelda had put on the carved wooden pendant immediately. His own present (joint) had been mailed out earlier in the week - a box of puzzles and games, including a Rubik's cube he had barely put down since it had arrived.

Then there had been a late lunch, then bundling up to go hiking down to the nearby river - it wasn't snowing, but Sheik, certainly, was taking no chances - indeed, the combination of his bangs and the scarf pulled over his nose ("I get cold lips!") ensured that the only visible skin was around one eye and nowhere else. Link had teased him until they had actually left the cabin, where the bitterly cold air ensured that suddenly he was pulling his scarf up, too.

Once at the river, Zelda had - somehow - managed to convince both her overprotective father and her overprotective guardian to let them wander on their own for a while - she had a radio with her, she reasoned, and could probably rig up something on the shortwave wavelength if they got in to trouble. Impa had perhaps been more concerned even than her father, but eventually she had conceded.

And that suited Link just fine. He knew the woods, mostly - he had come to the ones closer to the Home to play many times as a child. These specific ones were new to him, but with some idea of navigation through forests, he was sure it would be no problem.

"We're lost, aren't we," Sheik said flatly.

"We're not lost," Link tried to reassure him, "We just don't know where we are. Er, specifically. We know that we're in the woods."

Sheik gave an exasperated sigh, taking a seat on the only part of the nearest fallen log that didn't have a thin coating of snow on it. Flopping down next to him, Link immediately cringed as the snow soaked the bottom of his pants.

Zelda, wisely, stayed standing. "Alright, let us not panic," she told them quietly, "We'll find a way out. I've seen maps of this place and it isn't that big. Unless we walk due south east, these woods come to an end within a few miles, and we can use the sun to ensure that we don't go that way."

"Still," Link said sheepishly, "Sorry about this. It's my fault."

Although he had been exasperated only minutes before, Sheik reached over to pat his hand, offering him a tentative smile - the scarf covered most of it, but it was visible in his eyes. "It's not your fault," he reassured, "Much. I'm sure anyone who was that overconfident would do the same."

No one had ever said Sheik was particularly good at reassurances.

They had found a way out eventually - it had been Link's knowledge of the forest that had served them after all, since he had been the one who had found the hill in the first place. Sheik had been the one who had scrambled up the tree at its very top, clinging to the deku's leafless branches like some strange variety of primate that had a fondness for wearing blue, reporting what he could see back down to Zelda. And it had been Zelda who had used that information to work out where they were, and what direction they should go in.

By the time they made it back to the river, only a few hours had passed and all three were all the more cheerful for their impromptu adventure (except for Link, whose pants were still damp from sitting in the snow).

A return to the cabin for a hot dinner - already, evening was approaching, a clear cloudless night. There was a hill, Daltus had discovered, a short drive away with a few overlooking the forest as far as the town of Kokiri - if they settled there, they could watch the fireworks. Not nearly as spectacular as the ones in the city, they would still be the perfect compliment to the night and the perfect way to welcome the year.

They had headed out a few hours before midnight, settling down and setting up a camp fire a little closer to the tree line. At its side, the bitterly cold night wasn't quite so oppressive - indeed, it was almost pleasant. Although, to Link, that could have been the hot chocolate, or the toasted marshmallows, or Sheik and Zelda warm beside him.

A few minutes to midnight, they settled on the crest of the hill, Sheik on one side, Zelda besides Sheik. She still had that radio she had taken hiking before, now tuned to a local Kokiri station. Link had never been one for classical music, but this seemed pleasant enough.

And then the fireworks started - greens and reds and blues and golds exploding over the town, a shower of sparks, a rain of fire. Link made a content sound - Kokiri's fireworks might not have been the biggest in Hyrule, but he certainly liked them the best. Beside him, Sheik seemed transfixed, the brightness of the lights reflecting in his red irises.

And then the music stopped, one of Kokiri's finest broadcasters came on, and the countdown began. Link counted down, hearing his friends do the same, eyes fixed on the fireworks now exploding with periodic regularity - and as the clock struck zero, he turned to kiss Sheik fiercely.

Sheik kissed him back with equal enthusiasm, arms slipping around Link's waist - when he finally drew back to nuzzle against Link's throat and whisper, "Happy new year," it was already a good half-minute into the new year and Zelda was looking both distinctly miffed and distinctly amused.

"Happy new year to you too," she teased. Link only had to swap a glance with his boyfriend before they caught her up in a hug from both sides, both pressing kisses to her cheeks.

"Happy new year," Link grinned, and settled in to the impromptu three-way hug - the fireworks overhead, the hot chocolate warming his blood, and his two best friends ensured that there was no better way of bringing in the year.

"I wonder what the year will bring?" Zelda mused sleepily, head resting against Sheik's shoulder.

"Only time will tell," Sheik murmured back.

 

The long drive back to the city was, somehow, more tiring than a hike through forested mountainous terrain. Link had dosed on the way back, using Sheik's shoulder as an impromptu pillow - aside from when they had hit a bump in the unpaved road through Lonlon country and his lack of seatbelt had meant that his head had landed somewhat ungraciously in his lap.

He had woken up when Sheik had shoved him off and had glanced up to see him so brilliantly red that his face almost matched his eyes. Link had laughed hard enough to make Daltus turn around and stare at them.

But soon enough, he was set up in one of the guest rooms of the big old house Sheik and Zelda lived in. He didn't bother with unpacking the suitcase they had picked up from the Home in Kokiri - since he was heading back to school in two days, it hardly seemed worth it.

It was approaching dinner time by the time he had got settled in - if Link was scrupulously honest with himself, he was altogether uncomfortable with staying in such luxury. There was thick carpet under his feet and expensive paintings on the walls and Link was slightly ill at ease - Zelda and Sheik may have been accustomed to this sort of lifestyle, but for Link, it was distinctly weird.

So it was to his immense relief that Zelda had told him, when he had finally showed up downstairs, that they were going to Telma's for dinner instead.

Telma's Bar and Restaurant was a Castle City institution - a milk bar and hang-out for wayward youths during the afternoon, a restaurant during the evening, and, later on in the night, a bar. The food was some of the best Link had ever tasted, too - he would rather eat Telma's meat pies for the rest of his life than the finest banquet of roast cucco.

But it wasn't just the food that made Telma's Bar and Restaurant so popular, nor the infamous Chateau Romani that was served at the bar (Link would have had to save for possibly his entire life to save up for it - distinctly unfair, given that the ranch it came from was owned by the cousins of one of his good friends). It was Telma herself that made it so welcoming - part restaurateur, part bartender, part therapist, people were known to go there simply for some welcoming conversation and a sympathetic ear.

It was this sympathetic ear that Sheik was now making use of - Link gave him a faintly concerned glance from across his meat pie and roast potatoes, knowing full well that Telma was one of the reasons Sheik wasn't in therapy by now.

Instead, to try and prevent himself from listening in, he scanned the crowd - a few of the student teachers at his school debating something over steak (how a student history teacher and a student fencing instructor had ever become friends was something he wondered about frequently - but then, he and Zelda had ended up friends, so the same could well be true for Ashei and - what was his name, again? Shad?), and a few tables over was his friend Malon and her sister, Marin (Malon spotted him at the table and had given him an enthusiastic wave), a young man with purple hair he vaguely recalled Zelda mentioning she didn't much like, along with his seemingly much more sympathetic girlfriend, and -

"Oh, Thrice," he muttered, and tried to become one with the floor. But it was already too late - as if equipped with a Link-specific sixth sense, there sat the one person he wanted to see the least, and she was already swivelling her head around to fix him with a stare.

Then she grinned widely, practically bouncing from her table and utterly ignoring her possibly bewildered father (actually, how _did_ her father manage to fit in those chairs?) in favour of making a beeline in his direction.

"Hi, Link," she nearly purred. Almost automatically, he recoiled a little. "Fancy seeing you here!"

"Hi, Ruto," he said weakly, and looked around for an escape route. But no, he was alone for now - Daltus and Impa were at another table altogether, and Sheik was at the bar talking to Telma, and Zelda - where was Zelda, anyway? But that was largely academic - the point was, he was now trapped with a faintly delusional Zora who seemed very much to want to get into his pants.

She giggled at nothing he could see. "Are you all ready to go back to school?" she nearly demanded, "It's a big semester - you have that horse-riding thing, and there's the swim meet, and then the end-of-year dance... do you have a date for that?"

Well, he decided resignedly, she was certainly straightforward.

"Not yet," he muttered - truth be told, he was still unsure whether Zelda would be going with him or with Sheik, or whether he should simply bite the bullet and actually take his boyfriend. What a novelty that would be.

Ruto nearly tripped over herself in excitement. "Neither do I!" she exclaimed, "If you want, we could -"

That was the point that Zelda returned, a plate from the dessert buffet in both hands. "Oh, hello, Ruto," she smiled - Link knew her well enough to see how forced it was. And apparently, so could Ruto - her smile dropped immediately, tone cooling to something resembling 'icy'.

"Zelda," she said coolly, then physically turned her back on her in favour of talking to Link again. "Well, think about it, hmm? If you... want someone who will treat you well."

And she practically flounced away.

Zelda stared after her for a moment, setting the plates down. "I got you chocolate mousse," she said absently, "What was that about?"

And Link grinned a little. "Oh, that?" he nearly smirked, "She thinks you're in love with me."

Dropping her spoon back into her ice cream, Zelda burst into a fit of giggles. "Oh dear," she chuckled, eyes bright with amusement, "That's certainly news to me."

"She's convinced I'm going to go to the dance with her," he half-laughed, half-groaned.

Zelda chuckled again. "Well," she finally said, "It's certainly going to be an interesting year."

That, he'd later find out, would be the understatement of the millennia.


	3. Secrets

The first day of semester dawned bright and crisp, a windless morning where the cold didn't seem particularly oppressive. Zelda awoke early, as was her habit, showering quickly before drying off and dressing in her uniform.

On the whole, she wasn't particularly fond of uniforms - the bright red blazer was just a shade too bright to be easy on the eyes, and thick woollen knee socks flattered no one - but still she dressed without complaint, using her discarded towel to wrap her hair before settling down for some last-minute study.

Link and Sheik were already downstairs by the time she headed down for breakfast - Sheik gazing at his porridge like it had done him some great injustice, more or less ignoring Link entirely who was enthusiastically going over the schedule of extracurricular events over the coming months.

The riding competition, a fencing tournament, the recital, the debate competition that Zelda had signed up for before the demonstrator had even finished his pitch - the dance, which he seemed a little less enthusiastic about, and Exhibition, a showcase of skill held on the first day of the yearly Summer Festival.

That was still months away, though - Zelda's immediate priority was going to be maintaining her position at the top of Advanced Hyrulean History.

"Did you sleep well, you two?" she asked between mouthfuls of porridge, keeping one eye on the clock - still on schedule, although Zelda seemed to have an uncanny ability to know the time even without a timepiece of some description around.

Sheik nodded once, still poking at his porridge, whereas Link simply shrugged. "Sort of," he said sheepishly, "Those beds are really soft, I was sort of afraid I'd drown if I rolled over in it."

She stifled a giggle, nodding. "You get used to them," she shrugged, ignoring Link's mutter about how he'd _never_ get used to them.

And then it was time to go - schoolbags were collected, Link's suitcase loaded in to the car, Zelda racing upstairs to fix her hair again and check her tie was straight. The drive was short - normally, she and Sheik would walk, but Link's suitcase ensured that that was impractical for once. They parted ways at the gate - Link heading off to check in to the boarding house and unpack, Sheik going to 'help' him - which, she assumed, translated to a bit of making out on Link's bed before class. Waving her boys off, Zelda set off herself to get ready for classes and to go over the term's schedule for the Historical Society.

But before classes could start, there was an assembly - working her way through the swarming mass of the student body, unsuccessfully dodging one of what Link had loosely termed one of her minions and getting caught up in a one-sided five minute conversation about how wasn't that new boy in twelfth grade soooo pretty and how she hoped to talk to him at Cremia's party on Saturday and that, of course, Zelda was welcome to have first dibs if she so wanted - mildly alarmed, Zelda had waved it off, giving her minion - er, her fellow student (thrice, Link really was rubbing off on her in a bad way) - her blessing to go after him herself.

Finally managing to extricate herself from the girl's somewhat overly enthusiastic grasp, she spotted Link and Sheik off to one side. Salvation!

Dropping lightly in to the spare seat beside them, Zelda sighed and slumped most uncharacteristically in her chair, dropping her head on to Sheik's shoulder and muttering something against it.

"Minion?" Link asked sympathetically, reaching across to pat her knee.

"You," she huffed, "Are so lucky not to have them."

Anything further had to go unsaid - a minute early, the assembly was already starting (that conversation had taken longer than she had thought). Students scrambled for seats, making disappointed noises when the seating arrangements meant friends were split up, still talking over Headmaster Sahasrahla's attempts at announcements - until, of course, he gave a piercingly loud whistle.

A few people jumped, Link stifled laughter, expressing approval at his methods. With the majority of the student body settled down, Headmaster Sahasrahla was finally able to start - going through the same announcements he had tried to give earlier, leading the students in a prayer to the Golden Goddesses, briefly inviting a few of the elder students up so that they could discuss their various projects and try and invite anyone who was still reluctant about it to sign up.

The assembly was drawing to its usual close, however, when something Zelda was not expecting happened. Almost absentmindedly, he pulled a sheet of paper from his voluminous coat (the one that looked like robes straight out of history), rattling off a few names of students who were new that term. Getting students in from the middle of the year was unusual, and Zelda paid attention - which was probably a good thing, given the last name he provided.

Roxanne Zarya - tall, slim, fair-skinned and red-haired. Her entire posture radiated sullenness - she stood when her name was called, made eye contact with no one, and sat down. And that wouldn't have been unusual in itself if it wasn't for the fact that Zelda had immediately recognised the lie that had been told.

Zelda had a good memory. That much had been abundantly clear ever since she was small - she had an excellent head for figures, could spout off facts with only the slightest provocation, and was adept at remembering names and faces. And it was this last skill that ensured that while the face was instantly familiar, there was another name that went with it.

She had been a familiar face at important functions, someone her own age to sneak away with to find something more interesting while the grown-ups were doing boring things. They were of equal status, someone who didn't see the need to fawn or make a fool of herself simply because Zelda was the daughter of the Prime Minister.

Daughter of the Prime Minister in her own country, the girl in the assembly - the so-called 'Roxanne Zarya' - was one of the few people Zelda would consider a potential friend.

She didn't say anything to Link and Sheik until the assembly broke, tugging them aside to an empty corner. "That girl they announced," she told them urgently, "Her name isn't Roxanne Zarya. I know her."

Link and Sheik swapped a glance, a slight frown on Link's face. "Who is she?" he asked curiously, but there was already growing recognition on Sheik's face - nephew of Zelda's father's main advisor, he had been at some of those functions as well.

"You don't think that's --?"

Zelda nodded urgently. "We've been hearing worrying things out of Twila for weeks," she murmured, "Don't go and confront her yet - there could be things we don't know about going on."

They both confirmed that they wouldn't, then went their separate ways - all three had different classes to start off with, and they wouldn't see each other again until the mid-morning break.

The morning seemed to stretch on for an obscene length of time. 'Roxanne' was in Zelda's Advanced Hyrulean History class (the aptly-abbreviated AHH, somewhat related to the obscene amounts of work that had to go in to it and the distress this caused in many of its students), something that had initially surprised her - she wasn't Hyrulean, so why was she in this class? But instead, she sat at the back and made herself look busy and didn't volunteer a word.

She wasn't present in calculus, but, as Sheik had confirmed during the break, she was in his and Link's Hylian Literature class (standard, not advanced). Again, she had sat up the back, appearing to be busily writing away and volunteering nothing.

Between the mid-morning break and lunch was dedicated to spending time on extracurricular activities - part of the entire reason that some people were at the school in the first place. Castle City High School was, in fact, a school split in two - the lower campus at the bottom of the hill, the upper campus on the hill itself. This upper campus was the one hosting the prestigious Program - a program where talented students from around Hyrule were hand-selected for their abilities in certain areas.

It was a shallow way to ensure that Castle City High School always achieved the highest school rankings in both academics and outside of it - Zelda herself had been there since seventh grade for her skill in academics, Sheik since eighth grade to represent the school in gymnastics and music. Link himself was only a fairly recent arrival - he had arrived a year and a half earlier, plucked up from his obscure school in Kokiri after being observed at a horse riding competition and immediately proving himself not only in that, but in archery and fencing as well.

She couldn't help but wonder what 'Roxanne' was at the upper campus for.

It was, in fact, for the academic aspect - she had spotted the other girl the instant she had walked in to the room intended for the Castle City High School Historical Society. It wasn't just Hyrulean history the society focused on, which explained a good part of it - the other girl had shared Zelda's love of history and legends and folklore, spending many an hour pouring over books discussing it when they had been younger.

This time, she actually looked up in time to see Zelda's face. And her eyes widened, just for a moment, before an expression of cool neutrality slid over her face like she was pulling on a mask.

But in those seconds, her expression had been clear - for just those few seconds, she had looked utterly devastated.

Something had happened.

 

It wasn't until lunch that Zelda met up with Link and Sheik again - they had confirmed that she hadn't been at either fencing nor music practise, and she had confirmed that she had been at the Historical Society. With almost an hour to spare before afternoon classes, Zelda and Sheik had exchanged one look, and then promptly hauled Link off to the school library.

They found 'Roxanne' in the section on Hyrulean history - a pile of books sat beside her, and she was scanning what looked like the key points that they were currently studying (the history of the foundation of the land of Hyrule through the unification of several small kingdoms). Swapping a glance with the boys, Zelda stepped forward and cleared her throat.

To her credit, she didn't jump. Her hand merely tightened on the book, giving Zelda an apathetic look before her gaze flickered back to Link and Sheik.

"You're Zelda, right?" she said softly, the Twili accent clear in her voice, "I heard you were topping History." And then she smirked faintly. "I pity your lack of free time."

Behind her, Link made a noise of what sounded like protest. Zelda hastily raised her hand to stop him from doing something hasty (and really, she loved Link dearly, but he didn't always think things through before jumping to the rescue). 'Roxanne' saw, and smirked.

"Are these your pet pit bulls?" she asked airily, wriggling her fingers tauntingly at Link. "Ooh, aren't you scary! No need to bite!"

Link made a sound very much like a growl. "Come on, Zelda," he muttered sullenly, "Forget her. She's not worth it."

Simply grinning, 'Roxanne' settled back against the shelf. "I guess you're not completely stupid after all," she mused, still smirking, and this time Sheik had to grab Link's wrist to prevent him doing something.

Zelda remained unmoved, her gaze fixed on the other girl. "Come on, Midna," she said softly, "This is unnecessary."

The newly-named Midna's smile dropped immediately, her glance at Link obvious. "Who's Midna?" she said almost flatly, "I'm Roxanne. I don't know any Midnas."

Zelda frowned back. "You remember Sheik, don't you?" she said softly, "He was always at my side. Remember when we were... twelve, I think? You had just turned thirteen and were so grown-up, so you showed Sheik pictures of naked girls. He nearly passed out, he was so embarrassed."

From behind her, Sheik coughed awkwardly; Link stifled a snicker.

"And Link," she added, "Is one of my closest friends. I could tell him anything." ...Almost anything. There were some things not even he knew. "You can, too."

Silently, Midna dropped the book on the shelf with a clatter. "Not here," she muttered, "It's too exposed."

Almost sighing in relief, Zelda nodded, leading the three of them to one of the private study rooms. They were practically soundproof, designed for loud group discussion without disturbing the other library patrons. Pulling a few plush chairs in to a circle, they took their seats - Zelda primly, Link slouched back in his with Sheik on the wide arm of his chair, Midna stiff and awkward opposite them.

"I lied," she said almost flippantly to Link, "My name isn't Roxanne Zarya." She hesitated for a long moment, and then said, "It's Midna Kakarauri."

"I gathered," he smiled a little, "Given that Zelda called you Midna earlier."

"But why lie?" Sheik interjected, "Zelda holds the same position and she doesn't get harassed. Much."

Midna smiled flatly. "It's not a matter of fawning fangirls," she told them, "But my own safety."

Zelda frowned, immediately concerned. "What do you mean?" she asked gently, "We've heard that there's some... unrest in Twila - is there something wrong there?"

Again, she didn't answer straight away, and when she did, it was disconcertingly blunt. "My father is dead, I am on the run, and we're verging on outright civil war."

The stunned silence that followed was almost comical.

"What happened?" Zelda practically demanded. "Start at the beginning, and don't leave anything out. Why does no one know about this?" She was positive that the death of the Prime Minister of the neighbouring country should have been front page news, but not even a word - that was a concern.

"...Alright." Midna took a breath, and started.

Twila, like Hyrule, had politicians that practically resembled royalty. Zelda's father was the Prime Minister, his mother had held an important position in her life, her father had as well, and it was expected that Zelda would follow Daltus in to politics as well.

And the same was true for Midna's country. Never one to shy away from young leaders (and, at seventeen, Midna was verging on adulthood anyway), she was the expected heir to her father's position. Of course, her father had been in good health, and young besides - it was expected to be years before Midna had assumed any power.

"But," Midna said dryly, "It didn't quite work out that way."

Her father had been found dead in his bed three days earlier. Natural causes, she had been told - until she had arranged for an outside physician to examine him. And he had come to the conclusion that the strong old fifty-one-year-old in near-perfect health had been poisoned - and that Midna had been extremely fortunate to be dining out with friends that night instead of with her father as had been intended.

With its only leader dead, and its only successor still a teenage girl, Twila had almost shattered at the seams. In the chaos of that day, a man once considered a potential successor had taken control - Zant, his name was, wracked with resentment, lust for power, and a coldness that bordered on the sociopathic. Beneath that, Midna had told them, the man's sanity was barely holding on with a thread.

He had once been considered a successor. But his lack of sanity had ensured that the Prime Minister of Twila had named his only daughter, Midna, as his chosen heir.

Zant had not taken it well.

He had used cool calculation and tactics to take control of the seat of Twila. His first act had been to freeze the media. His madness had ensured that he believed he truly deserved it; that he was simply removing a minor obstacle in achieving his goals. Perfectly reasonable, of course - he had wiped away the dirt from the seat he had intended to sit on, and now he just needed to swat that annoying fly that was hanging around him.

Midna was the fly, and Zant intended to swat her.

"So I ran away," she said quietly, hands curling in to fists. "I didn't try to fight, I just... left everyone there. It's like I was cursed by Zant - because of him, I've lost my family, I've lost my home, I have betrayed the people that need me."

Expression twisting in sympathy, Zelda rose from her seat, reaching over to (awkwardly) embrace Midna. Midna stiffened for a moment, then hugged her back - there was still anger in her expression, in her very pose, fierce determination to not be a victim to the usurper that had taken over her country. But there was also some minor relief - if nothing else, for the knowledge that she didn't have to do it alone.

"I'm sorry," Zelda said quietly, feeling utterly wretched. "I can't imagine what you're going through, but... I'm sorry."

There was a faint sniff. "It isn't your fault," Midna muttered, voice muffled against Zelda's shoulder.

"Still," Link said from the other chair, "Is there anything we can do to help? I'm willing to do anything that's necessary."

Link and his heroics, Zelda thought with a crooked smile, always willing to go out of his way to help others. She glanced over to him and Sheik, smiling softly at their joined hands - Sheik looked shaken, but also determined to help.

"There... may be one thing," Midna suggested almost hesitantly, dropping her gaze and letting her red hair fall across her face.

"Name it," Sheik said reassuringly, "And we'll try to do whatever we can."

She hesitated again, then asked, "Will you do my Hylian Lit homework? That novel is brutal, and Hylian isn't my first language."

Link's jaw dropped for a moment, but Midna was shaking with silent giggles. And that only set Zelda off, too - especially when she glanced across and happened to catch sight of Link's slack-jawed expression and Sheik's distinctly disgruntled one.

"No," Sheik said almost doubtfully, "I'm not sure our grades are good enough. But," he added, his tone the very epitome of innocence, "Zelda is excellent at lit."

Sheik, Zelda reflected for a moment, had a sense of humour that seemed to surprise most people when they first saw the quiet boy. Very faintly snarky (in which case, he would quite possibly either get on famously with Midna or clash with her like he had clashed with no other before), slightly mischievous - Midna's was more refreshingly straightforwardly rude. Sheik's had subtlety that ensured that his targets hadn't realised they had been insulted until they had already walked away and Sheik was well and truly gone.

Naturally, she couldn't stop giggling.

They had started to make arrangements, then. Most of Midna's classes, it seemed, had at least one of them in it - Zelda in History both Hyrulean and World, both Link and Sheik in Literature, Sheik in Physics, and all three in the Hyrulean Languages class. She would be on her own for the more General Mathematics class (Zelda was taking the higher-placed Calculus, Link and Sheik had both dropped mathematics as soon as they had been able to), but at least, she reasoned, mathematics stayed the same no matter what country one was in.

A quick break to actually eat some lunch before afternoon classes, and they went their mostly separate ways again - Midna and Sheik had Physics next, and Zelda was reassured that he would, at least, keep an eye out for her during it. She headed off to her own Government & Civics class (why Midna wasn't taking it when she knew more about Hyrulean politics than many Hyruleans, she had no idea), meeting up with her again in World History.

This time, she invited Midna to take a seat beside her, claiming 'Roxanne' as her partner for the research project they were starting (discussions on the divergent history of the Gorons both in Hyrule and Labrynna). There, they achieved very little discussion of the Gorons, but instead a fair bit more discussion of arrangements - like Link, Midna was living in the boarding house. It would be a little more difficult, but he could watch over here there, too.

Of course, Midna had promptly started teasing the poor boy over his love of heroics and how he quite possibly was intending to swoop in and rescue her from the bad guys, and that was... more likely than Zelda was likely to admit.

They finished the day with a trip to Telma's Bar and Restaurant, snagging one of the corner booths with their milkshakes and snacks. Midna was looking around like she was trying to take in every detail - the polished-looking bar which Telma was wiping down, the drinks glowing in their bottles (strictly off-limits to minors, naturally), even the row of pinball machines in the lounge area to one side - there were couches, there, and a screen showing music videos. That, in itself, was another reason why Telma's was so popular with younger people.

It was beginning to fill up now, at any rate. Zelda and her friends were largely undisturbed (quite possibly, the "Go away!" vibes Midna seemed to be emitting had something to do with it) until about twenty minutes in, when two girls walked in and made a beeline for their table.

Unlike the encounter with Ruto two nights earlier, this one was slightly more pleasant - Malon and Ilia, who Zelda didn't know incredibly well but liked well enough. They were friends of Link's - that was fine with her.

Link was now greeting Ilia with a hug, introducing both girls to 'Roxanne' and vice versa - "Ilia grew up with me, she's like my little sister - and Malon's cool, she does equestrian with me - show jumping, like me, we actually met years ago because we kept meeting at competitions, and -" 

A faint amused smile on her face, Zelda glanced across at Sheik, seeing if he looked about as lost as she did. He gave her a bewildered smile back - no matter how much Link loved riding, she knew Sheik would always prefer his own two feet to get where he was going.

The girls left to get their drinks eventually, declining sitting with them - four people were plenty for one booth, and Malon nearly giggled, claiming she didn't want to interrupt the lovebirds. (Midna had shot Zelda a confused look; Zelda had murmured something about Link and the now flamingly-pink Sheik. Midna had immediately grinned, vowing to tease them at every possible opportunity.)

By the time they parted ways again - for the night, this time - Midna was in much improved spirits. Even as Zelda and Sheik started off on the walk home, she could hear Midna teasing Link (mostly about the hand-holding in the library, as it had turned out) - she had glanced across at Sheik and giggled to see his face, faintly mortified and still rather pink.

"I hope she doesn't tease us like that around other people," he murmured as they walked, "I do not want Link's reputation to suffer for it."

"He'll be fine," she reassured, giving him a half-hug, "I doubt he'd mind, anyway."

Sheik made a noncommittal sound, then smiled a little. "Well, she's a friend, now," he mused, "I expect she will know when to be silent on the matter."

"What are friends for?" Zelda grinned, taking his arm as they continued on their way home.


	4. Interlude - Heroes

The problem with quadruplets, Vio decided one day as he watched his brothers fight over something inconsequential, was that one tended to be able to trade barbs that well and truly hit below the belt.

Peering over the top of his book, Vio sighed. Green and Blue stood almost nose to nose, teeth bared and hands balled in to fists, swapping insults with depressing fluency.

"Stupid moron with a hero complex!"

"Aggressive, violent little git!"

"Shut up, I'm two minutes older than you!"

"But an inch shorter. Maybe that's why you're so irrationally violent!"

Blue growled and grabbed the front of Green's green t-shirt, dragging him close enough to punch. With a panicked squeak, Red, who had been watching the fight with wide eyes, jumped in, grabbing Blue's sleeve - surprisingly, Blue actually stopped to glance back at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Guys!" Red pleaded, "Let's not fight! I don't like it when we fight!" His lip trembled alarmingly; Vio saw Green flinch.

Vio sighed, finally looking up from his book. "Red is correct," he told Green and Blue, "This pointless, ceaseless conflict is not productive for any of us and simply wastes both time and energy. Besides," he added, "If you hit each other too much, you will begin to lose brain cells."

And, quite frankly, those two needed all the brain cells they could get.

"...Stuck-up git."

"Don't call Vio a stuck-up git, you brainless baboon!"

"If you love him so much, why don't you go marry him?"

"...'Cause he's my brother, you idiot! Why don't you go marry Red? Make an honest man out of his fawning!"

"Okay!"

" _Stay out of this!_ " Green and Blue yelled simultaneously, and Vio sighed, slipped his book back in to his bag, and stepped outside.

Ah - there, at least, was a welcome face. Letting a slight smile cross his face (cool, and small, and rather rare, but it was, in fact, genuine), Vio crossed the asphalt, dropping gratefully on to the bench under the tree.

"My esteemed siblings," he told his friend bluntly, "Are impossible. You are very lucky to be an only child."

Shadow smirked faintly, settling back against the old wood. "Ah, you don't need them," he drawled, "Not when you got people like me around!" Reaching up to rake his dark hair out of his eyes (and somehow leaving it more dishevelled than it had been to start with), he gave Vio a light nudge against the shoulder. "We're heaps better than the lot of 'em. They're idiot Hero types."

Vio smiled a little, resisting the nigh overwhelming urge to correct Shadow's grammar. That, he knew, was a losing battle. "Quite possibly," he murmured - Green was alright, if a little bombastic, but his constant warring with the overly aggressive and reactive Blue tended to wear thin. And truly, he doted on Red, but the boy was so painfully naïve that he practically required a twenty-four hour babysitting service.

And to be honest, his constant hugs (indeed, some bordered on tackles) tended to be distracting at the best of times.

"Totally possibly," Shadow nodded, then glanced up, scowling. "It's starting to snow," he said in some dismay, white flakes already visible on his dark clothes. "Let's scram."

Almost unceremoniously, he caught Vio's hand, tugging him to his feet - then, realising what he was holding, dropped it suddenly. A faint blush was evident on skin that hadn't looked like it had seen the sun in quite some time.

Not that Vio could talk, really.

Carefully handholding-free, the two made a break for the nearest building - thankfully, that was the library and not the cafeteria where his brothers were attempting to wage the second Civil War. Shaking snow out of their hair, they made for the stacks, the quietest part of the library.

Settling back against a tome on Hyrulean history almost bigger than he was (he had read it twice, of course), Vio made a little grumbling noise and managed to get halfway to the state known as relaxation. A pale hand slipped across to knead between his shoulder blades, and his level of relaxation began to approach at least seventy-five per cent.

"Brothers are stupid," he almost slurred, too drained to approach anywhere near his usual vocabulary.

"Yeah," Shadow agreed, "Your ones are, at least."

Vio snorted softly, then glanced up. "What are you doing after school?" he asked, "Do you want to come back and study with me and help me fend off the animals?"

He almost missed it, but a cagey, secretive look flitted across Shadow's face. "I have plans," he said vaguely, picking the nearest book off the shelf and peering at it. "Hey, this one says the Civil War was caused by people fighting over some artefact."

"Does it?" Vio started almost automatically, shoving his glasses up his nose before remembering. "Oh, wait, yes. I have read that one." Then he realised that Shadow had changed the subject, and frowned again. "What are those plans?"

"Er," Shadow said, "Family things." He was cringing a little, Vio noted - Shadow's family might have been awful, but he didn't think they were the type to warrant that reaction.

"Okay then," he shrugged, "Have fun... if you can."

The smile on Shadow's face was made of pure awkwardness. "Y-yeah," he said uncertainly, "I'll try."

Something, Vio decided, was up.

 

Vio didn't go home with his brothers that afternoon. He had caught Red in the corridor between classes, muttering something about, "A big science project due - just physics, not chemistry or anything, you wouldn't like it -" before darting off, determined not to lose sight of the dark head he had just seen in the crowd.

Shadow was leaving the school? But there was still a whole class left, wasn't there?

...Oh, he was going to be in so much trouble. Muttering a curse he had heard from Blue once under his breath, Vio looked around furtively - then followed Shadow out of the school.

It was hard going, following him without being detected - his friend seemed to be the master of slipping through the shadows, and he lost sight of him more than once. That, Vio decided, was when the light snow came in handy - it was just enough for Shadow to leave footprints, not enough to erase them.

The trail stopped dead outside an old warehouse - Vio looked around in despair before he noticed the window almost directly above him. Half-melted snow dripped off the bricks leading to it, handprints visible in the dust.

Well, Vio decided, Shadow might be excellent at escaping normal people, but he wasn't exactly subtle about erasing proof of his presence.

It took a bit of scrambling to haul himself up to the window himself (Shadow's trainers, jeans, and double-layered t-shirts were significantly easier to move in than his own leather shoes, neat slacks, and button-up shirt), and once he had almost managed to get up before his glasses had fallen off and he had had to retrieve them.

But finally, he managed it, clinging on with half-frozen fingers and staring at the scene inside.

There was Shadow, that much was for sure. He'd recognise that sullen slouch anywhere. But the other figure was a mystery - taller, a really poncy-looking hooded coat shadowing his face - his head moved, and Vio caught a glimpse of long purple hair.

purple hair? Honestly, Vio liked purple as much as the next person - actually, probably more than the next person, if he was strictly honest with himself - but that just looked poncy.

Still, he kept watching - and his eyes widened, for Shadow had just pulled a sealed plastic bag out of an inner packet of his coat. And inside that bag was the distinct blue of a wad of rupee notes.

Where in the Three's name had Shadow managed to get that much cash?

And why was he handing it to the guy with the poncy purple hair, and why was the guy with the poncy purple hair counting out a percentage of it and giving it back to Shadow? There was something very wrong going on, something he suspected involved criminal activity. There was simply no way Shadow had got that money any other way.

Feeling nauseous, Vio let go of the window ledge, dropping back down to the ground. He rested there for a moment, trying to make sense of what he had seen - Shadow had cut class (never mind that he had, as well), met up with some weird guy with poncy purple hair, and had been handling more money than Vio had ever actually seen in his life.

Was Shadow caught up in something?

Taking a breath, he hauled himself back up to the window ledge - then inhaled sharply. The warehouse, as far as he could see, was empty, as dusty and deserted as it had always been. For a moment, he entertained the bizarre theory that he had simply hallucinated the entire thing.

"Ahem."

Oh. Apparently not.

Freezing before dropping back down again, Vio steeled himself before turning around again. Shadow looked furious, mouth distorted with what was almost a snarl. The guy with the poncy purple hair simply looked cold.

Huh, Vio noted. The guy had tattoos on his cheeks.

"Did you see something that interested you?" the guy with the poncy purple hair asked casually, "Or do you make a habit of, er, hanging around old factories?"

 _Forgive me, Shadow._ "Yes, actually," he nearly drawled, "I followed my friend here. I saw the money." Shadow's hands balled in to fists. "I want in."

"Y-you -" Shadow almost stuttered. "You want what?"

"In," Vio said calmly, "You received cash, yes? Well, I am quite interested in getting some cash for myself."

The guy with the poncy purple hair was giving him a calculating look. Coupled with a smirk, it was somewhat disconcerting - like being held over flames, one wrong move engulfing him in fire.

"Do you understand what Shadow here has been doing?" he finally asked, dropping a hand on his shoulder. Shadow winced a little, moving as if he wanted to flinch away.

"...You tell me," Vio stalled.

And the guy with the poncy purple hair smirked.

"How about you learn by doing?" he said instead, grabbed Vio's wrist, and began to drag him off to the shopping distinct.

 

Vio was in the midst of some great conflict. He had found out what Shadow had been doing, what he had just done - even if he hadn't done the deed himself, he had made it possible, and wasn't that just as bad?

It had been an electronics store. Vio had pretended to be the eager customer, pointing out the cheaper items at the top of the locked cabinets while Shadow had pilfered the more expensive ones from the bottom, shoving them in to pockets he couldn't even see.

He had been nearly invisible - when Vio had finally glanced over, Shadow was nowhere to be seen, the boxes arranged so that the missing ones weren't immediately obvious. Vio had to admit - Shadow was good at what he did.

The second distraction had been leaving the store - in that, he had forced himself to look nervous, clutching his bag to his chest. That had immediately drawn the security guard's attention - he had crossed over to Vio, picking through his bag in search of anything he might have taken without paying for. Of course, this simply allowed Shadow to nudge the bag full of stolen electronics around the outside of the detectors, darting through and picking it up before disappearing in to the crowd.

By the time Vio got out - the nervousness on his face weren't entirely fictional - his hands were shaking, palms clammy. He had helped Shadow steal! He had seen which ones Shadow had targeted - there must have been a few thousand rupees worth of electronics in there. Why in the name of the Three had he done that?

They met the guy with the poncy purple hair outside, well away from any security guards. He had taken a look through the bag, smiled, and patted them both on the shoulders - Vio had felt a chill run down his spine.

"Well done," he practically purred, "There must be two thousand rupees in here." The wad of cash from earlier was removed - counting through it, he handed them both two hundred rupees each. Vio stared at it. "I'll take care of these," he smiled, fitting the electronics in to his bag, "And I'll give you that in advance. You did your part well, Vivi."

"Don't call me Vivi," Vio said automatically, but his heart wasn't really in it. Hesitantly, he asked, "And, uh. What's your name?"

The guy with the poncy purple hair raised a purple eyebrow. "Call me Vaati," he finally said, giving the bag another satisfied pat. "Can I count on your... assistance again, Vivi?"

Vio opened his mouth to tell Vaati where to go, took one look at Shadow's face, and wilted a little.

"Yeah," he said softly, "You can."

 

Shadow was fuming. That much was abundantly clear when Vio next saw him at school. He had looked up once, pale blue eyes narrowing, then deliberately looked away, refusing to speak to Vio or even acknowledge his existence.

By the time he had managed to corner him in the seventh grade science lab (Red had waved cheerily at both of them before running off to find Blue, not even remotely aware of the tension between the two), Vio was about ready to snap. "I'm sorry," he burst out as soon as they were alone, "I had concerns and doubts about your... family commitments, and when I was uncovered, I had very few options that wouldn't get us both in trouble."

Shadow just stared furiously at him for a moment. "Y'all should just mind your own business," he scowled, "I can take care of myself."

Vio raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You've become a criminal," he pointed out, "I would hardly consider that 'taking care of' oneself."

"So have you," Shadow pointed out with a smirk. "Or didn't you notice the two hundred rupees burning a hole in your pocket?"

A muscle in Vio's neck twitched. "That was... extenuating circumstances," he muttered, then shook his head. "At the very least, don't do this alone? I do not trust that man one iota."

Shadow snorted. "As if anyone does. Vaati's been arrested, like, twice. Some people reckon he's part of a gang and he's got an even worse boss, but I reckon he's just a crim."

For a moment, Vio chewed his lip. "Do you want to make it a third time?" he hesitantly suggested, "I am sure you would get off scot free, they simply need to look at your background and age. But what if we could get him locked up?"

Opening his mouth, Shadow closed it with a snap. "No way," he scowled, "They might lock _me_ up, too. I don't _like_ doing this, I hate it, but he made me, and..." He gave a ragged sigh. "I don't wanna go to jail. Which I will, if you get involved."

He dearly wanted to disagree. He really did. But instead, all Vio did was nod. "Okay," he said softly, "I'll see you later, then."

And he walked away. He had things to look in to.

 

Law books, Vio had decided, were boring.

He had looked up every law of juvenile delinquency he could find - at the absolute worst, if Shadow was found guilty, he would have a few months in detention. At the best, assuming he was punished, a few hours of community service. And, well, he was sure that Shadow wouldn't be very pleased with community service, but Vio was determined that it would serve him well.

Much of his information had come from an unlikely source - Blue. While somehow managing to stay on the right side of the law himself, many of his friends had not. And when Vio grudgingly explained the situation (free of names, many of the pertinent details, and explained as research for a novel he was planning to write), he had told him exactly what he had needed.

It was to Green that he had confided the truth to. Aside from Vio himself, Green was the most level-headed of the boys, and while appalled at both his and Shadow's role in the matter, he was still quite happy to help him. After all, he had reasoned, there was no sense in his own brother getting in to trouble, was there?

And Red had provided moral support. He hadn't asked any questions, he hadn't even offered advice, but his (silent, even Red knew when to be quiet) presence was enough to ensure that he didn't go simply mad under the stress.

And between the four of them, they had come up with a plan.

Vio had gone out, as usual, to meet with Shadow. Vaati had led them both to a jewellery store - this was more high-profile than their usual locations, and Vio, as the sensible, clean-looking one, was to ostensibly look for a nice piece of jewellery for his mother.

Of course, Vio had arranged a little something beforehand, and when Vaati had come in to steal the jewellery from under the jeweller's nose, he had quite suddenly found himself surrounded - by three policemen, the surprisingly armed jeweller, and Vio's three brothers.

"You little traitors!" he snarled at Vio and Shadow, and Shadow simply grinned.

"Yep," he smirked, crossing his arms across his chest, and practically whooping when the police took Vaati's arms and led him to the car. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out!"

One of the policemen let the door swing back and hit Vaati in the rear, and Shadow whooped again.

The remaining policeman was grinning at their antics, shaking his head. "You two," he said, addressing Vio and Shadow, "Can consider yourself heroes, but you do still have to account for what you've done. But we couldn't have done this without you, so we'll try and get the lightest possible sentence - a week's community service."

Sobering a little, Shadow nodded. "Yeah, guess so," he muttered, suddenly a little more sullen. Vio squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"It won't be for long," he murmured, "And it's better than jail, huh?"

"Yeah." Shadow grinned a little, glancing around at Vio and his gathered brothers. "I guess I... thanks, y'all," he said almost inaudibly.

Green grinned back, reaching out to shake Shadow's hand - Shadow blinked at the offered hand for a moment, then took it hesitantly.

"I think you're a part of the family, now," Green said formally, shaking Shadow's hand enthusiastically.

"Yay!" Red cheered, and that was the end of that.


	5. The Best Days Of Your Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Bullying, slurs, coarse language.

"Last one up is a Dodongo!"

"Hey, not fair, you had a head start!"

It was the beginning of spring, and it was beginning to show. Spirits in general tended to be high, matching the greenery and flowers starting to add colour to the greys and whites and browns that had dominated the previous months. The days were getting longer and warmer, adding to the general festivity of it all.

Link, in particular, seemed to be particularly spirited - as evidenced by his mad dash back up the hill where he and Sheik had been sitting.

Smiling to himself, Sheik followed a little slower - Link's exuberance was occasionally exhausting but somewhat endearing nonetheless. In an exhausting sort of way.

By the time he reached the top of the hill, Link was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging to himself, Sheik reached up and caught the top of the nearest brick wall; the bandages wrapped around his palms a buffer against the coarse brick. Drawing his feet up, he pushed them off the wall, using the momentum to pull himself up to the top. Straddling it, he could see both sides - the benches fringing the field at the bottom of the hill, the main bulk of the campus on the other.

Ah - there he was. Link was chatting animatedly with a few of his friends - he could see the other members of the archery team amongst them. He smiled again, more faintly, and dropped down on the campus side to join them.

And was immediately shoved back against the wall he had just jumped off.

"Sheikah," his attacker said in a rather overly friendly sort of way, "How nice of you to drop in."

Sheik frowned at the way his race was turned into a slur in the other's mouth, crossing his arms protectively across his chest. "Purlo," he said flatly, "I wish I could say the same of you."

Purlo's mouth twisted in a smirk. Almost casually, his hands shot out, grabbing the front of his shirt and forcing him back against the wall. Sheik remained motionless - he had fought off brainless idiots like Purlo before, he could do it again.

He just wished it was less painful, financially.

"Sucked any dicks lately?" Purlo asked casually, dragging Sheik forward, spinning him around, and slamming him back against the wall - at least he could bring his hands up in time to brace against it and avoid another broken nose, but that did also mean he couldn't prevent Purlo slipping his wallet out of his jeans pocket, helping himself to the forty or so rupees inside. "Or are you too busy taking it up the a--"

"Purlo!" interrupted an instantly familiar voice, and Sheik cringed. No - why was he getting involved? This would not end well. "Have I caught you at a bad time?" Link continued.

Slipping Sheik's money into his own pocket, Purlo grabbed the back of Sheik's shirt and spun him back around, the arm around his shoulders almost verging on a choke hold, a wide, false smile on his face. He knew Purlo despised Link, had despised him ever since he had won the archery challenge he had set up. But this... he couldn't see this ending well.

Especially as Link's hand was resting on the handle of his fencing epee, fresh from the practise they had had earlier, thrust through the belt loop of his cargo pants.

"Link," Purlo said, smiling like a knife. "I was just having a little discussion about fiscal responsibility with the Sheikah, here." He gave him a patronising pat on the head. "Did you know that little Sheik here is a fag?"

Link raised his eyebrows, gaze flickering to Sheik's face. "Well, _obviously_ ," he practically drawled, frowning. "I mean, look at him."

And it might have been a ruse, but it still hurt a little - that tone of voice from someone like Link. Sheik looked away for a moment, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"I mean, you would hope I knew," Link continued - and then, very suddenly, the epee wasn't thrust through the belt loop of his pants any more, but in his hand, protective rubber tip removed and the very pointy end pointed at Purlo's throat. "Get your fucking hands off my boyfriend."

The play of emotions across Purlo's face - surprise, then realisation, then disgust, then defeat - was almost fascinating to watch. "Fine," he nearly snarled, "Take him."

And he shoved Sheik with as much strength as he could muster in Link's direction, who immediately dropped the epee to avoid skewering him, taking a step back for balance as they collided. One arm came up around his waist for support, and Sheik glanced up at Link's face and was momentarily taken aback at the fierce passion in his eyes.

"Oh," he added, flipping the epee back up to his hand with one foot, pointing it at the retreating Purlo's back, "And you can give Sheik his money back, too."

Face contorted in an almost animalistic snarl, Purlo hurled the forty rupees back on the ground. "See you later, fags," he muttered sullenly, and took off like the Poe were after him.

Link let out a sigh, pressing a soft kiss against Sheik's hair. "I'm sorry I couldn't get here earlier," he murmured, tilting Sheik's chin to kiss him properly.

"Don't worry about it," Sheik murmured, detaching himself from the impromptu hug to slowly start gathering his money up before it blew away. "But... I don't think you should have done that."

"What, stand up for my boyfriend?" Link replied hotly, replacing the rubber tip of the epee and shoving it back through his belt loop before starting to help him gather up his money. "No way. I'm not going to just stand by and let someone like that push you around."

Most of it gathered up (short of five rupees - either Purlo hadn't given it back or it had blown away already), Sheik shook his head fiercely. "I can take care of myself," he muttered, "They've been giving me a hard time for nearly three years, it's nothing new." Looking up, he met Link's gaze, red eyes on blue. "What about your reputation?" he continued softly, "You know Purlo won't keep his mouth shut. The entire school is going to know you're gay by the end of the week." He smiled crookedly. "And, even worse, involved with me."

"Don't say that," Link frowned, and promptly reached over to him for a hug. "I wouldn't want to exchange you for anything," he mumbled in to Sheik's collar. "Let 'em talk, I don't care."

Sheik, despite himself, found himself smiling a little. "You're too heroic for your own good, sometimes," he murmured back, relaxing against his warmth for a moment before reluctantly detaching himself, eyebrows rising. "And you might have just outed yourself, but we're quite out in the open," he pointed out, gesturing to the mostly-but-not-entire empty courtyard.

"Mm, we are." Link finally let go, sitting back on his heels. "Want to go somewhere less open?" he grinned.

"Shameless," Sheik grinned back, getting to his feet before offering Link his hand. Link caught it, kissed his palm (that _tickled_ , Thricedammit!), then pulled himself up.

"Is that a yes?" he asked innocently.

Sheik paused, considering. Then, with the air of someone who had just made a tricky decision, said, "Last one to your dorm is a Dodongo!" and disappeared off in the direction of the boarding house.

 

Sheik had got there first, of course - Link was almost out of breath by the time he joined him, frowning a little at Sheik's utterly cool demeanour. "You," he told him, "Cheated."

"Not my fault if you're a ground hugger," Sheik shrugged - the advantage of parkour was that one wasn't simply limited to the ground. To reach the boarding house, Sheik had gone over two walls, a few chain link fences, and through the open window on the house's second floor - it was certainly faster than going all the way around to the front door then going up the stairs.

"Shameless," Link echoed back with a grin, picking his room key out of one of his many pockets and unlocking the door. "Come on."

Sheik had barely taken three steps in before he found himself shoved against a wall again. This time, though, it was distinctly more pleasant - Link's lips on his was a pleasant heady rush, the hands tracing patterns over his thin shirt causing pleasant friction against his skin. He let out a moan, stifled against Link's mouth, then rather deliberately slid his hands down to the small of Link's back - and a bit lower.

His scarf was pulled off, dropping to their feet where he shoved it away with one foot. Almost impatiently, Link reached out to tug his shirt off, the green hoodie already draped over the nearest piece of furniture (his desk, covered in everything but schoolwork). Somehow, he managed to get it off without also pulling Sheik's hat off, too.

For a moment, Link just stared at him, and Sheik found himself flushing at the intensity of that gaze. Then Link tugged him close again, running his hands over every square inch of skin he could get to, mouth lowering to suck and bite a mark beneath Sheik's collar bone.

"Mine," he murmured quietly to himself, one hand settled on Sheik's hip, the other still tracing patterns where ever he so desired. "You're gorgeous - don't care what that idiot says, you are so worth it."

Sheik found himself having to bite down on his lip to stop his response to that - he wasn't sure whether Link was ready to hear that. "You're worth it too," he told him, voice a mostly hushed whisper, "You make it all worth it." And he tugged Link back up for another kiss - a proper one, this time, not the hurried, urgent ones from earlier.

And he was already halfway to deepening it when the unlocked door swung open and a young, female voice proclaimed, "Link, I just heard the most horrible story about y-- oh!"

Sheik pulled away from Link so quickly he nearly knocked his head against the wall, his look of horror almost a mirror image of the one on Ruto's face.

"L-Link," she stammered, her eyes filling with tears. Sheik felt a pang of guilt through the haze of panicking at being caught in such a compromising position - no matter what he thought of the girl, she looked utterly devastated. "I thought... I..." Taking a shaky breath, she said in as steady a voice as possible, "I'm sorry for disturbing you."

And she turned, and fled.

"...Shit," Link whispered, stepping away from Sheik to drop his head against the wall. "Shit, I forgot to lock the door." He gave Sheik a chagrined look. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," Sheik murmured automatically, slowly leaning down to pick his discarded shirt up. Somehow, he didn't think things would be progressing any further.

Link gave him a faintly despairing look. "I guess I should go talk to her," he suggested, tone suggesting he'd rather swallow bees than confront her.

"I expect she will be at the pool," Sheik murmured back - if she was anything even remotely like him, she would head for her sanctuary. (Sheik's was the music room - at least ninety per cent of the time, if he was upset for whatever reason, he could be found there.)

"Yeah," Link grinned crookedly, picking Sheik's scarf up for him. "Uh... I'm really sorry about, uh, cutting this short."

"Not your fault," Sheik repeated, pulling his shirt back on, adjusting his hat, and leaning over for a quick kiss - the sensible part of his brain really did believe it, too, even if his sixteen-year-old male hormones were verging on a rather undignified tantrum. "I don't think it'd be a great idea for me to come with you," he added, "But I will if you want me to."

Link quirked a smile.

"Probably not a good idea," he said somewhat ruefully, kissing Sheik again. "Uh... wish me luck."

"Good luck," Sheik told him, and watched him go.

Then he sank down against the wall, scarf loose in his hand, an expression of abject exhaustion on his face, and said, "Shit."

 

After the scene Purlo had made, Sheik had found it most advisable to lie low for the remainder of the afternoon. It wasn't until the realisation that he was hungry that he found himself leaving the solitude of Link's room - a glance at his schedule had confirmed that he'd be otherwise occupied for the rest of the afternoon - making for Telma's Bar and Restaurant.

It wasn't as if it was the most private of places, but it was sanctuary also - Telma would stop any harassment before it ever started. Alone in his usual corner booth, it wasn't long before he was joined by Malon and Ilia.

"So, um," Malon started, and glanced across at Ilia.

"We heard about what happened this afternoon," Ilia said hesitantly, "With Purlo."

Sheik gave them a grim smile. "I expect most of the school knows now," he murmured.

Again, the girls swapped a glance. "A good percentage of the top three grades, at least. Most of the younger ones don't know you or Link, so..." Malon shrugged. "There were a few girls who were really disappointed, you know." And she stifled a giggle. "You've been labelled a thief, now."

Sheik just groaned and dropped his head on to his arms. "I can't believe he got involved," he muttered, "His reputation -"

"Sheik," Ilia said firmly, "Link doesn't give a toss about his reputation. I've known him for his entire life, remember?"

Sheik nodded slowly. Ilia had been the first person Link had ever come out to - he had only been twelve. "What does that have to do with anything?" he asked sulkily, although he was a little curious at what she was getting at.

Again, Ilia giggled. "It has to do with _everything_ , because I've known him for his entire life and I've _never_ seen him so happy as when he's with you."

Blinking, Sheik looked up. "...Really?" he asked hesitantly.

"Really," Malon said, reaching across to squeeze his hand, a smile on her face. "You make him happy, and for that, he'd put up any amount of crap for you."

The smile on Sheik's face now was small, but genuine. "Thanks," he said softly, then sighed a little and changed the subject. "So, the competition tomorrow - you're ready for that?"

"Of course!" Malon grinned - the competition in question was the school's yearly riding competition, both against their fellow students and against schools throughout Hyrule. She had won last year - this year, Link had been semi-regularly beating her in smaller competitions. There was little argument that the winner would be from Castle City High School - the only question was whether it would be Link or Malon taking home the blue ribbon for show jumping.

Privately, Sheik had his bets on Link, but he wasn't foolish enough to tell Malon that.

"I've been getting Epona ready," Ilia added - Epona, the horse Link usually used, was one of the best in Hyrule, and Ilia, an aspiring horse trainer, the one who usually tended to her. "She's quite excited about getting to run around." A brief frown crossed her face. "I hope Link doesn't do anything reckless with her."

"Come on, Ilia," Malon protested, "You can't wrap her in cotton wool, Epona _loves_ jumping, and Link's control with her is great - it's not good for her to keep her from -"

Quite unable to follow the horse-related discussions, Sheik tuned out. Despite Malon and Ilia's reassurances, the confrontation with Purlo and the later clash with Ruto were still weighing heavily on his mind.

He had received a lot of abuse after he had involuntarily been outed. It wasn't something he wished Link to experience, ever.

Saving him from his musings, though, was the door opening again. Admittedly, Sheik hadn't been paying much attention, but when Malon called, "Hey, Zelda, we're over here!", it definitely made him sit up (if only because Zelda was forever telling him off for slouching).

"Hey," Zelda said softly, sliding in to the booth next to him with Midna in tow, "I heard about what happened. Are you okay?"

Sheik gave her a dry smile. "Does everyone know about that now?" he sighed, then shrugged. "I will be."

She reached over to give him a little half-hug, laying her head on his shoulder for a moment. "Everything will be fine," she reassured, "I promise."

And it was, for at least an afternoon.

 

The next day had been... an experience. If one good thing had come out of it, Link still had his popularity - and people seemed rather less inclined to make trouble for the boyfriend of someone so popular. The one or two snide comments slid off him like water off a duck's back - the talk he had had with Zelda afterwards, where he had told her about the clash with Ruto, had helped.

"Of course you look happier," she had told him, slightly stunned at the question, "You actually smile now!"

Link had kissed him in the school hallway when they had parted ways for separate classes. That had also been new.

By the time people had started gathering on the stands for the equestrian competition, he was feeling both ill at ease and relaxed. Zelda, to his surprise, seemed to be the same - she looked distinctly queasy.

"Are you okay?" he asked in concern, frowning as he sat beside her.

She didn't respond, gaze fixed on the jumping course ahead. He had seen Zelda like this, but never so long, never so... utterly removed. On her other side, Midna gave him a helpless-looking shrug. "She's been like this for a good twenty minutes," she murmured behind Zelda's back.

Sheik nodded, and, carefully, reached out to touch Zelda's cheek. It worked - she jerked, drawing her breath in sharply before turning to look at Sheik. There was something clouded in her blue eyes.

"There is," she started hesitantly, "Something in the..." she breathed, shaking her head, "I know not what it is."

Then she blinked, and the cloudiness cleared from her eyes. "Sorry," she said, and this time her voice was back to its normal tone - and distinctly sheepish. "Did I...?"

Sheik nodded silently. Zelda hadn't had an episode like that - and especially not one that long - for a while.

"Would someone mind telling me what's going on?" Midna asked impatiently from behind them, and Zelda jumped almost guiltily.

"It's, er," Zelda nearly stuttered, then winced a little and muttered, "Epilepsy. I had a minor seizure. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it earlier."

Midna looked skeptical - Sheik didn't blame her. Zelda, for all her intelligence, was a terrible liar. "If you say so," she said doubtfully, "I'm sorry to hear that."

The three of them settled down a little more - when Midna's attention was caught by the horses, Sheik leaned over, murmuring in to Zelda's ear - "What did you see?"

"A shadow," she whispered back, "This... dark figure. I couldn't make out any details, but it was just... watching." She shuddered a little. "It gave me a bad feeling."

Sheik nodded a little, concerned. "Hopefully it will stay just watching," he suggested, giving her a half-hug. 

Zelda smiled weakly at him. "I hope so."

The smile he returned was hopefully more reassuring, but he was still troubled. Zelda's visions were rarely incorrect - sometimes, they took some interpretation, but they were almost always true in some way.

He was one of the only ones who knew about this ability, if only for being around when Zelda had predicted her father's incredibly unlikely election win. He and his aunt Impa, by virtue of being the closest to Zelda, knew about them. No one else did - not even her father.

And if she had seen a dark figure, felt a sense of foreboding, then... well, it warranted looking in to.

Still, they could look in to it later. For now the horses and their riders were being announced for the show jumping - the competition Link was in.

He was ninth in the roster out of fifteen - Malon, from what he could see, was only the second one, and he could see her fiddling with the tip of her hair (now in a thick braid) all the way from the stands. When she glanced over, he tried to give her an encouraging thumbs up; she smiled back weakly.

Ah - there was Link, near the back. He was at ease in the saddle, a natural rider - he didn't even have his feet in the stirrups or his hands on the reins. Epona, beneath him, was behaving beautifully, tossing her head back beneath Link's stroking of her mane. Even this far away, Sheik could see Link laugh.

The jumping itself - the parts Link wasn't involved in, at least - wasn't of any great interest. He watched the first one with vague polite interest, sat up properly to watch Malon - it had almost been perfect, but on the very last one, her horse's hoofs clipped the top bar and send it clattering to the ground.

All the way from the stands, he could see her cringe.

For the rest, he simply turned to Zelda and Midna for conversation, ignoring the rest of the world until Link's name was announced and he snapped to attention. And if nothing else, the sheer enthusiasm of the cheer from the school's section of the crowd was encouragement that his reputation hadn't been tarnished forever.

And Link, dressed in his uniform and astride one of the best horses in Hyrule, looked magnificent.

Waving to the crowd - then, much to Sheik's surprise, finding him in the crowd, catching his eye, and winking - Link prepared himself - and then he was off.

Sheik's breath caught - admittedly, all he knew about show jumping was from watching Link at practise, but there was no denying that Link was a master at this. He and Epona shot forward like they had been shot out of a cannon, leaping over the barriers with absolute grace, everything poised and comfortable and skilled.

And then, as Link and Epona prepared to reach the trickiest jump of the course, Epona whinnied loud enough to be heard from the stands, reared back in panic, and sent her rider crashing to the ground.

"LINK!!"

Sheik hadn't even realised he had screamed Link's name or bolted out of his seat until he found himself stopped by the barrier leading to the field; Zelda and Midna were right behind him, half the crowd already in an uproar. The part of his mind that wasn't in a state of panic caught sight of Ruto giving a wail and burying her face in her hands; the rest was too frantic over Link.

He couldn't even see him any more - as soon as he had been thrown, at least three paramedics had rushed out (along with Ilia - she was the only one other than Link who could easily tame the wild Epona), crouching over the crumpled figure. Sheik strained to see - he caught a glimpse of tan and black (his pants and boots), but nothing else.

A field marshal was jogging back from where Link had fallen; Sheik reached out and snagged his sleeve. "Is he okay?" he asked, appalled to hear the tremor in his voice, "Is he..." He swallowed past the lump in his throat.

"Breathing," the field marshal said brusquely, "He should be alright. Excuse me, I need to call an ambulance."

Sheik nodded, faintly appalled at his own reaction. He felt like he was about to cry, feeling more wretched than he had when he had been outed or the first time he had been bashed or the first time his heart had been broken.

Sinking down on the lowest step of the stands, head in his hands and Zelda and Midna forming a protective barrier on each side, he continued watching. And waiting.

 

It had been the most nerve-wracking three hours of Sheik's life, watching them load Link on to a stretcher, waiting to hear back from the hospital - even the relatively short ride there seemed to last an eternity.

Ignoring the fact that he was acting like a hysterical girlfriend (which, in actuality, was close enough, although he wouldn't have described himself as hysterical and certainly was no girl), he was at Link's side as soon as possible. To his absolute profound relief, Link was awake and in (reasonably) good spirits - he had been knocked unconscious by the fall, hence the hospital stay.

But other than the bruises across his upper body and the concussion, he was happily free of injuries - they had asked him to stay overnight for observation, but then he would be free to go.

Sheik had reluctantly left his side when visitor hours ended, promising to return the next morning to pick him up - it was a Saturday, fortunately, giving Link two full days to recover. Of course, by the time they had actually arrived, he was bored stiff, eager to leave and hear news about the rest of the day and about his beloved Epona (calmer, now, and resting - they hadn't found whatever had spooked her, but the rest of the competition had been called off just in case. Malon had been awarded the blue ribbon by default).

So they went straight back to the school - a detour by the stables to check on Epona, then back to Link's dorm so he could rest.

Of course, Sheik had discovered when Link had pushed the door closed, locked it, and set the key down with deliberateness, how much rest he would actually get was simply up for debate.


	6. Of Airheads, Disguises, and the True Value of Friendship

"So apparently, Kyla actually went right up to Alin - _right_ up to him, I swear to the Three - and actually _asked him_ if he liked Miria, 'cause she totally liked him!"

"Oh my Thrice! Did she really? That is _so_ outrageous!"

"Oh, I know, right? Apparently, Miria was really, really pissed off - she actually went up to Kyla and said she wasn't allowed to contact her any more!"

"Ooh, poor Kyla."

"Ooh, I know."

Zelda, eyes glazed with boredom, gazed at a particularly interesting bit of plaster on the wall with something resembling more interest than she could muster at the conversation. It had faded in to a sort of background drone - shrieky teenaged girl voices gossiping about boys and teen dramas and oh thrice, she couldn't stand it any more.

"Zelly?" chirped one of them, and Zelda cringed automatically at the overly familiar nickname - only Sheik was actually allowed to call her that, and that was only because she had given herself permission to nickname him 'Sheiky' if ever he did. "Isn't Miria a bitch for totally having a hissy fit?"

Making a sound so non-committal she was almost proud of herself, Zelda shrugged. "Perhaps Kyla should have asked Miria first about telling Alin that she liked him?" she suggested - at least, she thought those were the right names.

"...Why would she do that?" one of the others blinked.

Zelda smiled blandly. "Never mind. Ooh," she added suddenly, affecting a sudden glance at her watch, "Look at the time - I've got to go."

There was a chorus of disappointed noises. Of course, Zelda observed, none of them had particularly made any real effort to integrate her in to the conversation (mind numbing as it was). Any disappointment at her departure was solely due to the loss of status that had the Prime Minister's daughter sitting with them.

And therein was the problem.

Hurrying away from the gaggle of giggling girls who cared about boys and gossip and teen dramas and status and making themselves look the best at the expense of others, Zelda decided that things had to change. She didn't particularly like any of them, and she was fairly certain that they only liked her for who her father was.

Meeting up with Midna, Sheik, and Link at Telma's was like a balm. She was perfectly content simply to listen to them talk - Midna had discovered the joys of Kokiri honey (the Kokiri region was well-known for its less intensive agricultural practises; delicacies like honey were thriving businesses there), and Sheik had been asked to give tutoring to a girl in the school orchestra (like him, she played the harp), and Link had finally been able to ride Epona again - it had been a good fortnight since the competition had ended so abruptly, and it had taken that long for him to get the all clear.

And Zelda... was drained. She was tired of the fawning from girls who only wanted to be friends with The Prime Minister's Daughter and not with Zelda, and of constant invites to parties where she'd inevitably end up outside taking deep gulps of fresh air to escape the wildness of teenagers with too much alcohol and not enough sense, and of teachers always picking her to answer questions because, oh, wasn't she simply the star of the school?

So, apropos of nothing, she said, "I feel like disappearing for a little while."

Well, she thought with a quiet chuckle, that was one way to stop the conversation in its tracks.

"Zelda, are you okay?" Link asked, concerned. But Sheik's expression was less readable, and Midna looked positively sympathetic - she had disappeared as well, Midna replaced by Roxanne, a new life overlaying her old one.

"I am," she said softly, "But..." She shrugged, a faintly embarrassed expression on her face. "I'm beginning to tire of being Zelda Nohansen. I think I want to be someone else for a while."

Sheik gave her a little sideways hug, understanding dawning in his expression. "What would you do?" he asked gently.

"Well," she started hesitantly, "If you're willing..." Taking a breath, she launched in to her idea. "Artificial tan, a new hair cut - or, at the least, a new hair _style_ , different clothing, actually acting like myself instead of acting like what everyone expects to see - if you would allow it, Sheik, I was thinking of maybe posing as your cousin. I could explain my eye colour away by saying I am half Hylian or something like that."

Smiling a little sheepishly, she added, "It would allow me to keep being around you three."

There was a short, hesitant silence. Then Sheik offered, "...That just might actually work." Then his smile dropped a little. "What would you tell the school?"

She frowned briefly. "I imagine I would, at least, have to tell Headmaster Sahasrahla," she mused, "Although he quite likes me - I could tell him it was a social experiment. I expect my story could be that I - as myself - went on holidays, and that my new self was visiting the school as a prospective student or something like that?"

"Could work," Midna proclaimed, "Headmaster Sahasrahla knows who I am, as well." Suddenly, she giggled, gesturing towards Link and Sheik. "Now the boys just need to hide as well, and we will all be the same!"

Link snorted a little, although he was smiling. "Would you stay with the Academics?" he asked curiously.

Zelda shook her head. "It would be too obvious - I have to do something I'm not associated with." For a moment, she considered - ideally, she would stay with one of her friends. Then, at least, they could watch out for her, help maintain the disguise.

Which left a few options. Horse riding was right out - although Link would swear until he was blue in the face that Epona was the most wonderful creature in Hyrule, she wasn't much one for horses, herself. And music... well, Zelda enjoyed listening to it. Playing it was a different question altogether.

"I could try archery," she suggested hesitantly, "I have fairly good aim. Gymnastics, maybe - Sheik, you've taught me some stuff, could you teach me any more?"

He nodded, smiling reassuringly. "Of course."

"Excellent," Zelda nodded, "I expect I could also try fencing... Link, do you have a spare sword? So we could practise?"

"I can get you one, yeah," he smiled. "I think I'd start you on a foil - I use an epee, and they're a bit heavier and trickier."

She nodded again - the different types of swords and their styles, at least, she was marginally familiar with. "Thank you," she smiled, and closed her eyes for a moment. "Did you know," she said, tilting her head back against the plush booth, "I think this just might work?"

 

"This isn't working!" Zelda wailed.

Her legs were orange from the fake tan. Hair dye was smeared across her forehead and the back of her neck, in the process of turning her natural strawberry blonde to a more golden shade like Sheik's. The underwear she had been wearing to apply the tan while her hair dye set now had unbecoming streaks of the same orange at the edges, ruining the once pristine white.

If she ever recovered from this, she was never wearing white again.

"Calm down, Zelda," Midna said with an amused smirk from her position perched on the vanity. She looked the very picture of calm and control, not a drop of dye or tan on her.

"I'm orange," Zelda moaned, and just managed to stop herself dropping her fake tanned face in to her face tanned hands.

Raising her eyebrows, Midna picked up the packet, turning it around to scan at the back. "It says here that it will look orange until it properly sets and you shower to get rid of the residue," she said calmly, "There's no need to work yourself in to a state."

She paused.

"Unless you wash off the residue and you're still orange. Then I would start working yourself in to a state."

Zelda wailed again.

 

Happily, Midna's advice had been right. An hour later, the once-pristine white tiles at the bottom of Zelda's shower were a mix of orange and yellow, but her skin had darkened to something approaching a natural-looking tan. Against it, her newly golden blonde hair almost glowed.

Midna glanced up from where she was lounging on Zelda's bed with a magazine, and immediately grinned. "You look good," she said appreciatively, "Go put some clothes on and we can start on your hair."

Clutching the towel around her, Zelda smiled a little nervously. "Just don't do anything too drastic?" she pleaded.

"No buzz cuts, then?" Midna smirked.

Zelda gave her a look, grabbed a change of clothes, and ducked back in to the bathroom to change. Returning a few minutes later, she gave Midna another weak smile then moved to sit cross-legged in front of her full length mirror, towel around her shoulders. "Do your worst," she said grimly, then hastily added, "Or, preferably, your best."

Midna's best... was, actually, really quite good. She had combed the curly bits out of her hair, then pulled Zelda's hair back in to its usual style - pulled back, a few pieces at the side pulled around at the sides and tied at the back. Instead, she combed forward a segment of hair, letting it fall over Zelda's face like a veil - before Zelda could protest, she parted it at the side, brushed it out smoothly, and pinned it back on one side with one of her own hair clips.

To top it off, she trimmed the ends, leaving pale tufts of blonde hair floating down to the towel, and pulled the rest of her hair in to a high half bun - half of the length of it tied up, the rest trailing down the back of her neck.

"There," Midna said in satisfaction.

Zelda peered at her reflection, blinked, then smiled. She looked... well, different. The tan and hair dye helped, certainly, but it was the new hair style that caused the biggest change - no longer was her hair tied back, her entire face exposed. Now it was hidden by her new bangs, disguising the line of her jaw and casting new shadows over her features that disguised them further. Even the length of her hair, thanks to the half bun, looked different.

"You," she told Midna, "Are wonderful." And she turned herself around and hugged her fiercely.

That, of course, was only phase one - there was no sense in changing her appearance if someone recognised her based on her clothing or belongings. So dressed in her most unlike-her outfit (an old t-shirt she usually reserved for lounging around the house, and a pair of jeans she had bought to go horse riding once and had never worn again - also the reason for her lack of desire of wanting to do equestrian), she and Midna set out again.

It was a new experience, being in public as someone else entirely. As they had headed to the shopping district, she and Midna had been discussing her story - she was Sheik's cousin from a different country, her new father a fictional brother to Impa and Sheik's mother who had left to go abroad before she was born. And now he was heading on a business trip, and so Zelda would be travelling to Hyrule to stay with her only other relatives.

It would still require some fine-tuning, but the basic story was set, now, and they could focus on further altering Zelda's appearance. A few items of make up - Zelda rarely wore it, short of lip gloss. Her new self, they decided, would wear eye liner - that would further disguise the shape of her eyes.

A few earrings - gold hoops to replace the delicate amethyst drops she usually wore, and an additional ring for the second piercing in her left ear - normally she simply wore a transparent spacer to prevent people from actually noticing it, but if she wasn't herself, she could quite possibly get away with breaking a few rules.

And then, clothing. As a rule, Zelda generally favoured feminine, conservative clothing - dresses and skirts in pastel shades, perhaps a light floaty scarf paired with a pair of neat heeled boots or simple flats. All simple, all classy, all expensive.

But her new self shopped at second hand shops, it seemed. Firmly setting aside her instinctive disgust at wearing things that other people had worn before, they found battered jeans and tan three-quarter-length pants and a pair of scuffed trainers and a few t-shirts (both loose and tight). And, to ward against the occasional cool spring mornings, a denim jacket, rolled up to the elbows.

And last, the accessories. New items stuffed in their bags and a beaten-up old backpack they had found covered in patches, instead of heading to the expensive stationer's like she normally would, she and Midna simply bought her belongings at the nearest chain store - folders and stationery and the cheapest wallet she could find (garish, bright red and black, and featuring a pirate's skull and crossbones on it).

While she was paying for her items (cash, not one of her cards - she didn't quite look like herself any more), Midna had ducked out. And when they had met up again, Midna had in her hand a bag of pins - sarcastic slogans, bright designs, the sort of things a tomboyish girl would possibly like.

These, they decorated her bag and jacket with once they had arrived back home. Setting out her new things, Zelda was struck suddenly by how utterly unlike herself she now looked - worn-out jeans and jacket, scuffed sneakers, a loose t-shirt and a ratty bag covered in patches and pins.

But then, that was the point, wasn't it?

 

The payoff for all of Zelda and Midna's efforts was the next morning. Sheik, having spent the afternoon at rehearsal, had been taken aback at her new appearance, but it was Link's reaction that truly amused her.

He had been in on the plan from the start, but the momentary lack of recognition in his eyes when he saw the slouching, slightly scruffy-looking girl next to Sheik made it all worth it. Then, the double-take, then, the startled laugh and the deeply impressed, " _Wow_!"

And if one of her closest friends didn't even recognise her straight away, that was an encouraging sign for the rest of the experiment.

Feigning introductions as if to the first time, 'cousin' Sheik then parted ways with Link to accompany her to Headmaster Sahasrahla's office. He, too, even knowing it was Zelda, seemed to be taken aback - once the door was closed, he complimented her on a job well done and wished her luck for the experiment.

New schedule in hand - most of her new classes she shared with Link or Sheik, the only one she and Midna shared being Hyrulean Languages - and an appointment made with the fencing team to test her skills before lunch made, she finally set off for her first few classes.

Standard level Hylian Literature was new. For once, Zelda found herself behind - she had actually read the novel they were currently studying, but years ago. For once, she stayed silent and let the others answer the questions.

One of her minions was in that class. There had been a tense moment when the girl had blinked at her, almost as if in recognition, before glancing away; Zelda had let out the lungful of air she hadn't even realised she was holding. True confirmation came at the end of the class - both heading for the door at the same time, they collided.

The girl glanced down at her like she was something vaguely unpleasant to wipe off her shoe. "Watch where you're going," she snapped, giving Zelda's new outfit a once-over and smirking. "Where'd you pick that up - the dump?"

Automatically, Zelda bit back the reply she longed to give - but then, she wasn't herself any more, wasn't she? So she called on Sheik's quiet sarcasm and Midna's refreshing bluntness, smiled brightly, and said, "Yup, straight off the scrap heap." Then, shoving her way past, she added over her shoulder, "Oh, and you might want to adjust that stick up your arse, it's nudging what you laughably call your higher functions."

And she was gone.

 

Naturally, Link's first action upon finding her during the break was to (discreetly) give her a high five. "I didn't realise you had it in you," he grinned widely, "Well - the sarcasm, at least. It's just whatsherface that has the stick in her."

Zelda laughed and almost corrected him before realising she didn't know that particular minion's name either. Oh well - it was entirely academic now, anyway. The first glimpse of her, even as herself, would forever provoke a fit of laughter that would give the game away fairly swiftly.

A brief check in with Sheik and Midna, and then it was Link's turn to look after her at her first meeting with the fencing team. This, at least, would go fairly smoothly (at least, she hoped so) - the fencing instructor was previously from Kokiri, one of the events co-ordinators at the Home when Link had been younger. Indeed, he had been the one to teach him fencing, archery and horse riding in the first place.

"Rusl," Link said to him, making the introductions, "This is my friend Sheik's cousin, Tetra. She's here from - uh." He gave her a (rehearsed) sheepish look. "Sorry, where was it, again?"

"Labrynna," Zelda said in a tone quite unlike her own, "My dad took off there when he met my Mum," she told Rusl, "But she's an only child, so while they're off in Holodrum for business, I'm up here with my cousin."

Rusl gave her a reassuring smile. "Well, Tetra," he told her, "We'll see about getting you up to a standard level. Headmaster Sahasrahla tells me you have a little experience with fencing?"

She nodded, resisting the urge to brush her new bangs out of her face. "Yeah, a bit. Use a foil, though. Practised against Link on the weekend when I got here, and fu-- uh, Thrice, that epee just about killed me." She gave a sardonic snort quite unlike her usual light laugh.

Rusl chuckled. "Well, we'll hopefully make sure no epees kill you," he grinned, "I might start you with the younger students, if you don't mind."

"That's fine," Zelda shrugged, "I haven't done this in a while."

Her partner for the sparring that morning was a younger boy she recognised as one of those quadruplets, only a seventh grader but already well assured of his own supremacy. Giving Zelda a skeptical once-over, he loudly pronounced how this would be the easiest victory of all time (earning a filthy look from another boy who, by his appearance, must have been one of his brothers). And, to her lasting embarrassment, it was.

"Told you it'd be easy," he almost jeered, "You're only a girl, and girls can't fence."

"Oh yeah?" came a distinctly feminine voice from behind him - Zelda recognised her as one of the student teachers and one of the help staff at Telma's Bar and Restaurant (and suddenly she was glad of the mask that covered her features - she wasn't sure she had ever spoken to the young woman, but Zelda had certainly been going there for years). "Want to put those skills to the test?"

Lasting embarrassment turned to lasting amusement. The student teacher's form was better than anyone's she had ever seen bar Link's (currently holding his own against - indeed, gaining ground on - Rusl, although both had stopped to watch the fight), her victory swift. And the boy was left shame-faced and staring angrily at his feet.

"Only a girl, huh?" the student teacher grinned, "Well, _this_ girl can kick your arse, yeah?"

While he stalked off to harass some other poor innocent, the student teacher tipped her mask up to peer at Zelda. "Don't mind him," she told her, "He's a little jackass. You're not too bad, for a beginner, yeah?"

"Thanks," Zelda grinned, "I'm a bit rusty," she added, shrugging.

The student teacher nodded. "I can help you out with that," she offered, "Some sparring, some instructing. Sounds good, yeah?"

"Yeah," she echoed, grinning behind the mask. "Oh, I'm Tetra."

"Ashei," the student teacher introduced herself, "I'm apprenticed to Rusl, here - day I beat him in a duel, I'm gonna take over this class, yeah?" She gave her a grin and tugged her mask back down, getting in to stance. "Right - what's the first thing you're going to want to do when you start a match?"

"Well," Zelda started, trying to recall everything Link had ever told her about fencing, "The first thing to do is..."

And the practise continued.

 

By the end of the week, Zelda was exhausted.

Fencing and archery and gymnastics, as enjoyable as it was seeing her boys doing the things they loved, were significantly more tiring than the Historical Society. Which, for its part, she had found herself missing greatly.

And she had proven what she had wanted to prove - that being Zelda wasn't nearly so bad as she thought. Yes, many of her so-called 'friends' had been proven to be vapid, bug-eyed, status-obsessed airheads. That much was evident. But overall, being herself wasn't quite so bad.

So after a relaxing weekend with Midna, Sheik, and Link, she had scrubbed off the rapidly-fading tan, pulled back her hair as usual (although the new bangs did frame her face quite nicely), and Zelda returned to Castle City High School.

And she had rather literally bumped in to one of her minions. And while the minion had squealed about how simply _horrible_ it was without her and how much they had missed her (which was a lie - from what Zelda had heard as Tetra, she hadn't even been _mentioned_ during the week) and how fantastic it was to see her again, Zelda summoned up the little bit of her that was Tetra, looked at her in the eye, and said, "You might want to adjust that stick up your arse, it's nudging what you laughably call your higher functions."

And she was gone, leaving the spluttering minion gaping at her. She had _real_ friends to find.


	7. Of Earth and Air

By the time of the Spring Recital, Medli's fingers were rapidly gaining callouses the size of Death Mountain.

It was for a good cause, of course. It was all practice for her role in the string section's piece - she was one of the main soloists, she and her best friend Makar, and she wanted to be at her absolute best. The bow of Makar's violin was like an extension of his body - she wanted to be the same with her harp.

Because the recital marked the day she was going to tell the object of her affections how she felt about him.

So naturally, she had to play perfectly. He played the harp as well, had in fact been tutoring her - never mind she two year age gap, at those tutoring sessions, she had fallen hard.

Hopefully, he had fallen as well.

Harp in her lap, Medli took a moment to steal a glance at him from across the room where they were winding down after the dress rehearsal - he was talking to one of the vocalists, a girl in his grade with long red hair. For a moment, Medli gave her a suspicious stare - but no, there was simply no chemistry between them.

But between him and herself... well, hopefully that would be a little more likely.

Strumming the strings absently, she continued watching. An involuntary smile came to her face when he brushed long blonde hair she itched to touch out of his face, revealing for a moment both brilliantly red eyes. That had been what had caught her attention in the first place, as a matter of fact - at first, she had wondered if he was Rito, like her, and had been momentarily disappointed to find out otherwise.

But that didn't stop him from being a mysterious, kind, red-eyed, harp-playing, gorgeous boy that she couldn't stop looking at.

And, oh Thrice, he was _coming her way_!

"Medli," he smiled when he reached her side, "Were you practising those pieces I found for you?"

"Y-yes," she almost stuttered, "I really liked the third one - I think it would sound better with two, though." Plucking up every bit of courage, she looked up at him and asked, "Will you play it with me?"

"What, now?" he asked in faint surprise. Medli nodded, unable to form words so well with him that close. "Well, I suppose so."

Taking a seat opposite her, he set up his harp, hands poised over the strings. "Lead the way," he smiled, and something in Medli's chest flipped.

"Okay," she almost whispered, uncharacteristically shy, and started off on the piece. He listened for a moment, then joined in when the first few bars repeated themselves, not just sticking to the sheet music but harmonising and emphasising.

By the time that came to an end, her cheeks were flushed. "That was," she started, and smiled hesitantly. "Really nice."

He gave her a dazzling smile back, reaching over to pat her on the shoulder. "It did sound good, yes," he agreed, rising from his seat. "Remember to keep practising - you're beginning to get really good."

Medli flushed with pleasure. "I will!" she chirped, smiling broadly, "I'm looking forward to playing with you this afternoon."

He gave her another smile, a farewell she didn't really hear, and headed back off again.

The broad smile still on her face, Medli settled back, stroking the strings of her harp. A few short hours, then the recital... and then, she vowed, she would tell Sheik exactly how she felt.

 

With two hours to go, Medli (already dressed in her neat uniform with her hair back in its usual tidy ponytail) found herself attempting to relax in the school's quadrangle, running her fingers over the strings of her harp. It was a distinctly more nervous gesture than it had been earlier - with only a few hours to go and five pieces to play (three with the entire orchestra, one with the junior half of the orchestra, and, of course, the string arrangement), she was about ready to pass out from nerves.

And to add on to that what she was planning to do later...

The one reassurance was her best friend Makar, also dressed in his uniform, violin case on the bench beside him and tucking in to a salad lunch.

"You know," Medli teased, "If you eat any more plants, you'll turn in to one."

"I'm surprised he hasn't started sprouting yet," his older brother Fado drawled from the end of the table, giving Medli a conspiratory wink. "One day, he may grow even from a weed in to a tree."

Makar responded by sticking his tongue out - then, when Fado glanced away, by flicking a piece of cucumber at him.

The only one still mostly silent was Komali - not part of the orchestra but one of Medli's friends nonetheless, he was dressed somewhat more casually (being a Saturday, it was not required for students not taking part onstage to be in uniform). Picking at his sandwich, he glanced up and contributed something occasionally, but for the most part, he was on the fringe of the conversation.

Medli offered him an encouraging smile, and Komali immediately gave her a small smile back, running a hand loosely through his bleached-white bangs (the contrast between that and his natural brown hair was an interesting one, Medli had always thought, and one somewhat like his personality - a frosty first impression with warmer, more earthy tones behind it). Then she took a breath, addressing her next words mostly to Makar but also to the group at large.

"After the recital," she started, and gulped. "Erm... wish me luck, please! I'm going to..."

She took a breath. "After the recital, I'm going to tell the guy I like that I... er, like him."

Komali looked vaguely like he had been hit over the head with a spade, but Medli didn't notice. Instead, she just saw Makar's grin (he knew about her crush on Sheik, had known about it from the moment she had known herself) and Fado's raised eyebrows.

"Oh?" Fado asked, and gave her an exaggerated wink. "Who's the lucky man?"

"Sheik," Medli said dreamily. "He's in eleventh grade and plays the harp like me and has red eyes like me and he's really sweet and friendly, and I really, really like him."

"I have red eyes," Komali said softly, but Medli didn't notice. Instead, she was busy frowning at Fado's eyebrows, rising ever higher.

Carefully, he said, "I don't think that's such a good idea."

Medli frowned immediately. "Why not?" she demanded. No, she didn't want to hear that! She wanted encouragement and their blessings and their enthusiasm! Not, 'I don't think that's such a good idea'! "Why isn't it a good idea?"

"Well," Fado said, tone still overly careful, "For one thing, he's too old for you."

"Is that all?" Medli snorted, "Because I don't think that's a good reason! There's a girl in my grade who's going out with an eleventh grader - Agitha, she's going out with that guy whose name I can't remember who also collects bugs - two years isn't weird."

Again, Fado looked awkward. Then, he sighed, fixing Medli with a sympathetic gaze. "He wouldn't be interested, Medli," he told her gently, "There's... well." He winced, and then said, "He's gay and has a boyfriend."

Now it was Medli's turn to look utterly stricken. "That's," she whispered, her voice trembling, "No, that's... how do you know?"

"It's sort of common knowledge," he winced. "Anyway, there's a girl in my grade called Ilia who I talk to sometimes who's really good friends with Link - that's his boyfriend - and yeah, he's gay. And come on," he added, "As if any guy who plays the harp and wears skinny jeans would be straight!"

But Medli didn't want to listen to reason. She had just had her heart broken. Shaking off the comforting hand Komali was trying to lay on her arm, she got to her feet shakily, tucking her harp back in its bag on her back.

"I don't," she whispered, voice cracking, "Think I want to play any more."

And she turned her back on her friends, and fled.

 

A squeak, and she rose up in to the air. Another squeak, and she soared backwards. Another squeak, and she rose up again.

The tips of her shoes (light tan ankle boots - she had yet to put on her uncomfortable pinching school shoes before fleeing) brushed the dusty ground at the bottom of each swing, raising little streaks of dust in her wake. Already, she could see dust settling on her bag, a faint cloud marring the reds and blues.

Sheik liked boys. Medli was not a boy. Never before had she wished to be male, but she was doing that now.

So focused on her misery, she didn't notice someone settling on the other swing until it squeaked as well. Glancing over, she saw Komali there - not swinging yet, just sitting, feet dangling.

"The recital is in only just over an hour," he said softly, "Everyone was worried."

Medli gave him a weak smile, then glanced away. "They're better off without me." 

"That's not true!" Komali said fiercely, "You're the best one there - they need you!"

She laughed bitterly. "No they don't. Sh-- the other harpists know the piece as well, and Makar is really good. No one needs me." Medli sniffled. "No one will even notice I was gone. Especially Sheik. I guess he never even noticed me."

"Then he's not worth it," Komali said emphatically. "He might be, uh, 'really sweet and friendly', but if he makes you upset, I don't like him."

Medli managed a fraction of a smile. "Thanks, Komali." It wavered a little as she looked away again, stopping her swinging in favour of staring at her feet. "I guess," she said softly, "It isn't just Sheik. I just... wanted someone to notice me."

There was a brief silence, then, unable to hold the question in any longer, she burst out, "How did you find me?"

Komali scuffed one of his boots against the dusty floor. "I know that you like to swing when you're upset," he started, tone awkward, staring at his feet. "You wouldn't have gone to Dinsvale Park, that's too close. And Jalhalla Park has those rumours - you know, about the Poes there - and I know you're scared of those. So I thought it would be Dragon Roost Park, and, well." He turned to look at her, giving her a watery smile. "Here we are."

Medli gave him a faintly astonished look. "How did you remember that stuff?" she asked curiously, "About liking swings and being scared of Poe?"

He didn't answer straight away. But finally, his voice almost inaudible, Komali said, "Because I notice you."

For a moment, Medli didn't breathe.

Biting his lip, Komali dipped a hand in to his shirt, drawing out something closed in his fist, attached to a loop around his neck. Lifting it off, he reached out for one of Medli's hands, then closed her fingers around it.

Looking down, Medli saw a small, pale orange pearl. Wire was wrapped around it, holding it in place and to the leather cord it was on - it was little and pretty and caught the light.

"...Komali?" she asked softly.

"It was my grandmother's," he replied, looking up to meet her gaze. "I want you to take this, Medli. Giving you the thing I value most will give me the courage I need to say what I want to say." He took a deep breath, and said, "I notice you, and I have for years."

Medli gazed at the pretty thing for another moment, gulped, then said, "We should get back." And she hopped off the swing, and she offered Komali her hand.

 

Just as she had always expected, by the time she was taking her seat for the string ensemble, Medli was busy scanning for a pair of red eyes. Unlike what she had expected, though, these ones didn't belong to the harpist in the seat beside her - this pair was somewhere in the audience.

And she found them, and she smiled.

The conductor (a blonde boy even younger than her) took his place, raised his baton, and the piece started. Not taking her eyes off Komali's, the pearl a comforting lump between her blouse and her blazer, Medli played like she had never played before - her harp combining with Makar's violin combining with the rest of the string section. Even Sheik's harp couldn't distract her, not now.

She played for herself, for her friends, for Komali, and for being noticed. She didn't even mind when Sheik's part of the piece included a few notes of a theme that made a blonde girl in the audience cover her mouth in delight - all that mattered now was playing her heart out.

And to Komali.

Afterwards, the orchestra gathered backstage, Sheik stopped by to congratulate her on a job well done. She smiled, and noticed that while he was still pretty, there was no longer anything between them. Perhaps there never had been. With a quick thank you, she caught Makar's eye, grinned, and excused herself, shoving her harp back in its case then racing outside.

Komali was there, waiting for her with a flower in his hand. Almost shyly, he presented it to her; smiling, she tucked it behind her ear. And then she took his hand, and leaned over to give him a quick, shy kiss on the cheek.

"You played really, really well," he said gently, still holding her hand, massaging her fingers gently, "It really felt like, well, Earth. Like life and reassurance and..." He gulped, glancing down at their hands. "And new beginnings," he whispered.

Quickly, impulsively, Medli leaned over and gave him another kiss - this time, on the mouth. And then she drew away, blushing fiercely enough that the colour rivalled the colour of her - and his - eyes.

Komali's smile could outshine the sun.

"For what it's worth," Medli told him as they left the recital hall, hand in hand, not even seeing the former object of her affection leaving with his arm around his boyfriend, "I should have noticed you a long time ago."

Komali smiled, and squeezed her hand. "There's time to notice each other now," he said, and they walked away.


	8. Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Implied sexual activity, underaged drinking, minor violence, minor coarse language

"-- was excellent, you looked really good up there."

Sheik smiled a little, adjusting the arm around Link's waist - since the encounter with Purlo, Link had been significantly more demonstrative and affectionate. He wasn't complaining - for all of the shit he had taken over the past three years, Sheik thought he just might be entitled to be able to hug his boyfriend in public.

"It was nothing, really," he replied, still smiling, ducking his head to cover his face. "It was fun - no hardship for me."

Zelda laughed a little, nearly skipping ahead a pace before falling back. "I loved the lullaby in there, Sheik," she smiled, "Was that arranged, or...?"

He laughed a little sheepishly in response. "I just slipped it in to the arrangement yesterday, and it worked well enough." She was referring to the little medley that Impa had played to her as a lullaby since she was a baby. Whether it was something of her own invention or some older song, Sheik wasn't entirely sure, but it was resting, relaxing, and powerful all at once.

"Well," Zelda told him, beaming, "I loved it." And then, barely pausing for breath, she asked, "What are the plans for next weekend?"

The next weekend - Sheik's seventeenth birthday. (Technically, it was on the Friday, but the weekend was when he assumed anything would happen.) Shrugging, he glanced across at her. "I haven't really decided," he said a little sheepishly, "I don't want a party. If nothing else," he added self-deprecatingly, "I don't exactly have a large circle of friends."

"Hey, now! What are we," Midna laughed from her position on Zelda's other side, reaching across to punch Sheik's arm, "Chopped liver?"

"Hey," he frowned, "That hurt." And he simply shrugged. "You, Zelda, Link, maybe Malon and Ilia. That's hardly a party."

"True," Midna conceded.

Beside her, Zelda grimaced. "I expect Dad will throw the usual ball for me," she sighed - her own birthday was five weeks after Sheik's, Link's three weeks after hers. "Well, that will be positively horrid."

Sheik gave her a sympathetic look. The parties that Daltus Nohansen threw for his little girl tended to be huge, lavish things, held in the Parliament ballroom, packed with Zelda's 'friends' and his colleagues, and completely and utterly dull.

"We'll have to go to that, won't we," Link nearly whimpered.

Zelda crossed her arms firmly. "If I have to suffer, so do you."

Detaching his arm from its position around Link's waist to raise a hand, Sheik asked, "Can we get back to the question on what we're doing on the weekend?"

Piling in to Impa's car (she had stayed to watch Sheik's performances, then retreated), the discussion continued - Link and Midna had plans to stay at least until dinner, although Sheik was quite willing for Link to stay longer. By the time they returned, they had come up with precisely no ideas.

Except Midna's suggestion, as soon as they parted ways with the adults - "We could," she suggested, "Go out to a club."

Sheik gave her a skeptical look. "We're underage," he pointed out, "Link and Zelda would still be sixteen."

She nodded, an expression of mischief on her face. "I found a club that doesn't actually ask for ID," she said grinned, "And I used to do it all the time in Twila."

Zelda looked somewhat more open to the idea - there was a slight calculating look on her face, lips pursed curiously. "It might actually be possible."

"It might actually be fun," Link added, grinning a little, moving his hand from Sheik's back to a little lower. "I could buy you one of those drinks with the really suggestive names."

Despite himself, Sheik snorted.

Still - it would certainly be a novelty. If nothing else, he wanted something other than sitting at home watching a movie with Zelda and Link before an early bed. And sneaking out to a club would certainly be something other than sitting at home watching a movie.

"...Okay," he finally said, "We can do that."

 

Of course, it hadn't gone as well as expected. They had been there for an hour and a half and had plucked up the courage to order only one round of drinks (Midna had got them, being that she was the least familiar to others and was also the eldest), meaning Link had been cruelly denied his chance to order Sheik a Leg Spreader (and making Midna order it for him simply wouldn't have the desired affect).

After more than an hour, Midna had finally managed to successfully coax Sheik out on to the dance floor; he had protested at first, laughing that he couldn't dance, but Midna simply reasoned that if he was able to do a standing back flip, then following everyone else's dance moves would hardly be an ordeal.

And of course, as soon as he had actually managed to approach 'relaxed', he happened to catch sight of the older man attempting to chat Zelda up, and the older man attempting to peer down her shirt, and Link returning from the bar with a few bottles of water, taking one look, and punching him in the face.

"Oh, fuck," Sheik groaned, immediately abandoning the dance floor to - well, he wasn't sure on whether he was going to break them up and chastise Link, or join in.

And of course, the bouncer (at least part Goron, if the build was anything to go by) had got there first, grabbing Link's arm in one hand, the older man's in the other, and hauling them both to the door.

"We do not allow troublemakers in here," he said, oddly primly, and slammed the door in their faces.

The older man took one look at Link's balled fists and murderous expression and wisely decided to leave, leaving Link to yell, "Coward! Pervert!" after him. One he was a reasonable distance away, the older man turned around, scooped up a beer bottle, and hurled it at him; it shattered a few metres away.

"Link," Sheik just about growled, Zelda's hand in his, Midna quiet and sullen behind them, "We're leaving. If you can control your anger long enough to avoid another fist fight, you can come with us."

Now that the adrenaline had worn off somewhat, he was just angry - angry that Link had punched first and asked questions later, angry that he had drawn such negative attention towards them, even angry that his birthday had nearly ended with them potentially getting in trouble with the law.

Link's shoulders slumped, and almost immediately, the anger drained out of Sheik. He looked... defeated, really - a black eye beginning to emerge, a shallow cut on his cheek trickling blood.

"Sorry," he said softly, and hesitantly reached for Sheik's other hand. "I just..." He shrugged helplessly.

Zelda sighed. "I'm not a damsel in distress, Link," she told him quietly, "I appreciate it, truly, but I don't need a hero."

"I understand," he murmured almost inaudibly.

"What next, then?" Midna asked, "We can't go, yet - we told Impa that the movie finished at eleven."

Sheik nodded, glancing down at his wrist before realising he wasn't wearing his watch. "What time is it?"

"Twenty to ten," Zelda said immediately. (She was _not_ wearing a watch.) "We still have an hour and a half before we're expected home." She made a thoughtful sound, then suggested, "We could go to Telma's."

"It's past nine," Link pointed out, "We can't get kicked out of one bar then sneak in to another." A slight pause. "Can we?"

Sheik shook his head. "No, we should be able to. I have an arrangement with Telma." He ducked his head a little. "She won't serve us drinks, but we can still stay there for a while."

"An arrangement?" Midna asked.

Pulling a face, Sheik nodded a little. "When I was twelve, she prevented me from getting beaten up," he shrugged, not particularly wanting to recall those years. "Now, if ever I need to, I can go there no matter what the hour."

"Useful," Link observed, although he was giving Sheik a look he couldn't quite interpret. "Okay - we'll go to Telma's."

"Good," Sheik said softly - this was far more to his liking.

Telma hadn't seemed particularly surprised to see them there - she had welcomed them in, inviting them to take a seat in the slightly less-populated lounge area until their usual booth was freed up. Allowing the other bartender to take over for a moment (Link recognised Ashei, raising a hand in greeting; she gave him a skeptical look back), she had fetched a small first-aid kit, dabbing antiseptic on Link's cut and a plaster to go over it.

Then, with an apology, she had headed back to the bar - it was busy, that night, and poor Ashei would be swamped on her own, she said.

When it had emptied, they had been allowed to move over to their usual booth - suddenly tired, Sheik find himself half-leaning against Link, his previous anger at him utterly gone. Right now, all he really wanted to do was go back to bed.

During a lull, Telma had joined them again, bringing them over some drinks (on the house, she told them, in honour of Sheik's birthday - Link had told her about it the day before, on the actual day) and somehow managing to get the entire story out of them. Both stern and sympathetic, it was almost good to tell her.

By the time they made it back home, the night had almost returned to being good again.

 

Zelda's birthday, in contrast to sneaking out to sleazy clubs and getting in to punch-ups with complete strangers, was simultaneously utterly dissimilar and utterly the same as Sheik's birthday.

Instead of clubbing gear, they were in formal dress - Zelda's hair, instead of its wild braid, was in a neat up-do, light make up on her face and a high-collared sleeveless blouse preventing any glimpses down her shirt. Sheik, for his part, was awkward in the dark blue suit he had been forced in to; the red metal Eye pin at his collar was a further awkwardness.

"Oh, stop fiddling with it," Zelda snapped at him as he raised his hand to it for the umpteenth time, making him drop his head with a sigh and a muttered apology. It wasn't his fault - he just didn't want to be wearing something like that. It was a little too... obvious.

Sheik was not looking forward to this. Sleazy old men, dubious quantities of alcohol, and yes, it would be quite uncomfortably similar to his own birthday.

Link was late. That was further adding to his discomfort.

To keep up appearances, Zelda had been expected to bring a date. Given that Zelda was not, in fact, seeing anyone, and that it would perhaps be unwise for Sheik to take his boyfriend as his, he had temporarily loaned Link to Zelda for the night.

Which seemed somewhat awkward to him, but that was beside the point.

He was spared any further rumination on swapping significant others by Link finally dashing through the door, his hair almost escaping its low tail and the dark green jacket he wore clashing brilliantly with Zelda's pink and purple blouse. A smile twitched on Sheik's face.

"I'm sorry!" Link nearly panted, fishing in to his pocket for a small box - black paper and silver ribbon, a little paper label only slightly creased - he gave it a dismayed look and tried to smooth it out. "I was getting you this - it's a joint present between me and Sheik." A distinctly sheepish look crossed his face. "I sort of couldn't afford something nice on my own."

"Oh, you got it?" Sheik asked, brightening up a little, "Good." And he turned to Zelda, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. "Happy birthday."

Zelda smiled shyly as she took the box from Link. "Thank you," she told them both, carefully undoing the ribbon and setting it aside. Link, bouncing on the balls of his feet, seemed impatient for her to open it faster.

The paper was removed with the same care, and Zelda blinked at the jeweller's box she now held. With a slightly hesitant glance at both boys, she prised the lid off - and gasped in delight.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" she almost cheered, lunging forward to hug Link (he was the closest) then Sheik. "Thank you!"

"Happy birthday," Link smiled, lifting the bracelet out to fix around Zelda's right wrist - it was a bangle, three strands of gold (yellow gold, white gold, and rose gold) braided together. One strand on its own wouldn't hold its shape - three together would. (The symbolism had not been lost on Sheik when he had spotted it.)

The presents given (Midna, for her part, had given her the earrings she wore now - delicate gold earrings, small sapphires and amethysts set in each one - she was not going to attend the party, given that there would quite possibly be too many dignitaries and politicians who could recognise her as herself, not as Roxanne) and the arrangements made, all that was left now was to get to the ballroom. And then the real test would begin.

 

Link, Sheik observed unsteadily, was drunk.

Not that he was much better - it had taken perhaps half an hour before Link had tired of small talk with people he had only ever seen in the newspaper (when he had cared to read it) and crawled beneath the buffet table to take shelter. With the floor-length table cloth covering it, it was a rather decent hiding spot.

Which was why Sheik had joined him, a pilfered bottle of champagne in one hand.

There, they had proceeded to... drink more than they had, in fact, drunk at the bar. Link was a rather giggly drunk, Sheik noted, giggly and more physically affectionate than usual - within ten minutes of sneaking under the table in the first place, he had Sheik in his lap, hands around his waist (and occasionally dipping lower, only to be slapped back) and nuzzling the back of his neck.

Link, Sheik had discovered, was very fond of the back of his neck.

Zelda herself, the birthday girl, finally joined them after a little over an hour. She had just managed to extract herself from conversation with some politician whose name Sheik heard once and immediately forgot, grabbing the champagne bottle with almost indecent enthusiasm and taking a good-sized sip.

"That man," she said when she was done, "Is insufferable."

Link gave her a pat on the knee that ended up, due to his aim, being a pat on the thigh. (Zelda immediately squeaked, pushed his hand away, and pointedly told him to go feel up his boyfriend instead of her.) "S'alright," he told her, "S'gone now. Now you just has - haves - got us."

Sheik found himself giving what sounded worryingly like a giggle. "You're drunk," he told Link.

"So're you. And Zelda's not." With a comical frown, Link lifted up the bottle of champagne, showing how little left there was.

"I'll get some more," Sheik nodded - he was less intoxicated than Link and had the better reflexes aside.

Lifting the bottom of the table cloth and getting down on the floor to peer under it (then giving an undignified squeak when Link took the opportunity to pat him on the backside - oh, no, wait, that had been Zelda), Sheik looked around for feet, then cautiously crawled from under it.

Peering over the table from behind a stack of glasses, Sheik took careful note of the nearest people and deemed that the coast was clear, slowly and carefully reaching for a bottle of what looked like vodka.

There - he had it. Closing his fingers around the chilled bottle, he lifted it carefully to extract it from its container and return it back under the table. Until, of course, the larger hand closed around his wrist from behind.

"...Shit."

Wincing, Sheik slowly turned around, just in time to see a rather stern-looking Daltus Nohansen, tapping one foot and giving him a look like he had just been caught stealing sweets from a small child - mingled disapproval and disappointment.

"Now, really, Sheik," he said conversationally, "You don't want vodka. Try a soft drink."

And then, without warning and without letting go of his wrist, Daltus bent down and lifted the table cloth.

There was nothing there. Even the champagne bottle was gone.

Silently cursing Link and Zelda's escapology skills, he tried to give Daltus his most apologetic look. "I just wanted to try it," he explained sheepishly, "See what it was like."

"Mm-hmm." Even after a few drinks, Daltus's skepticism was obvious. "And why were you emerging from underneath a table?"

"It was relaxing," Sheik bluffed.

Perhaps Daltus had had a few drinks, as well. At least, he seemed to buy it.

"Well, then," he said, perhaps a little uncertainly, "In that case, have you seen my daughter? We're about ready for cake."

"Er," Sheik started, and started scanning the crowds. Ah - there she was, deep in conversation with Link, both of them giving a credible impression of being involved. "There - she's with Link."

Daltus observed them for a moment, then clapped Sheik's shoulder so hard his knees almost buckled. "Looks like my little girl has herself a boyfriend!" he beamed, and Sheik gave him a weak smile in response. (The urge to tell Daltus that Zelda would have to get her own, that one was his, passed his mind.) Still, he didn't have much time to dwell on it - with little warning, Daltus tugged him by the wrist around to the other side of the table. "Cake!" he boomed, and Sheik resisted the urge to block his ears.

At least, he thought resignedly as Zelda gave Link a look then joined him at the table, wincing a little at the sheer unnecessary size of the cake, it was no worse than his own birthday had been.

 

For Link's birthday, three weeks after Zelda's, the four of them had finally decided to do the complete opposite of both Sheik's and Zelda's.

There would be no going out to sneak in to clubs, and no dressing up for exceptionally dull balls. Instead, Link and Midna would come over to Zelda and Sheik's house, and they would watch movies, eat popcorn, order pizza, and simply enjoy each other's company.

In more ways than one, Sheik thought suddenly, licking his dry lips as he recalled his planned present to Link.

They had congregated in Sheik's room - Zelda's, while larger and perhaps more luxurious, lacked the couch and television that his had. And, alright, perhaps it was a little more untidy - his bed was unmade, a few items of clothing draped over bits of furniture, his and Link's shoes and bags in a messy pile in front of his closet.

But Link, at least, seemed perfectly at ease.

He was, in fact, making good use of Sheik's video game console - a skateboarding game that seemed to consist of making as many tricky moves as possible. It wasn't, perhaps, Link's style, but he seemed quite happy to use it - neither the Home nor the boarding house at school had video games.

Zelda and Midna had laughed when they had found him there, leaning forward, intent gaze on the screen with Sheik bemused beside him, and then they had presented him with his joint gift from both of them - a handheld video game console.

Link had immediately tucked it in to one of the voluminous pockets of his cargo pants, grinning broadly and hugging both girls.

"And what about you?" he had grinned cheekily at Sheik. Sheik had flushed red and murmured something about getting it tonight; Zelda, who had managed to get the truth out from him, give him a reassuring smile over Link's head.

The remainder of the afternoon had been spent in the back garden - it had a great deal of spots to hide away in, and Sheik had found himself halfway up one of his favourite trees before only a few minutes had passed. It was comfortable up there, he argued as he helped Link up - Zelda, now wearing some of the things she had worn as Tetra, had joined them, Midna ignoring her long skirt and wraparound top and climbing up as well.

Then there had been dinner - pizza, ordered from a local pizzeria. It was, Sheik decided, certainly better than the overabundance of hors d'oeuvres that had been served at Zelda's party. Watching Midna teasing Zelda with a slice, he swapped a glance with Link - Link was grinning a little at the sight, raising his eyebrows in reply.

Next, there had been the film - it was one of Link's favourites, a spy film that Sheik personally wasn't very fond of but would tolerate for his sake. Instead, he practised inverting himself, legs slung over the back of the cough and most of his body across Link's lap.

Link had grinned, then pushed Sheik's t-shirt up and started tickling him. Sheik had yelped, flipped over backwards, and settled on Zelda's side of the couch, giving him a glare (comical, if Link's stifled snort was anything to go by).

And then it was late, and Zelda and Midna had retreated to bed, and Sheik and Link found themselves alone in Sheik's room, both sitting on his bed, a nervous tension between them.

So Sheik had swallowed roughly, leaned over, and kissed him.

"I said earlier," he started, voice a little more unsteady than he would have liked, "That you would get your present later. Well..." And he kissed him again, this time moving more deliberately, practically seating himself on Link's lap. "You've got me."

Link pulled back for a moment, a slightly confused expression on his face. "What do you mean, I've got you? I've had you for over a year alrea--" And then his blue eyes widened. "You mean...?"

Licking his dry lips, Sheik nodded almost shyly. "Yes," he confirmed softly, hands knotted together, heart pounding so hard he was sure Link could hear it. "I'm sorry for making you wait so long," he continued, "Since... well, it took a while to get there, but I was... scared and I didn't know what to do and, uh, I ended up doing some research online just after my birthday and I think I know what to do now, and I thought we could probably do it them but I wanted to save it for something like this, and -- mmph."

Stopping his nervous rambling with judicious application of his mouth to Sheik's, Link drew out the kiss for a moment before parting. "Thank you," he murmured. "I didn't want to push you in to anything, but... thank you."

It was, the part of Sheik's mind that never quite silenced, possibly a thank you both from Link's heart and his hormones.

"I did some reading," he murmured nervously, swallowing again as he reached beneath his pillow to pull out a tube, a foil packet, and a slim booklet, "For, er, the first time, you need to take some precautions or, uh, it will hurt, and..." Blushing furiously, he shoved the booklet in to Link's hands. "Go slow," he said softly, "Use plenty of this -" And he set the tube in them, as well. "And if I ask you to slow down, please do."

"Okay," Link whispered, his expression half way between stunned and ecstatic, glancing at the items in his hands. Flipping through the booklet, pausing to scan at a few pages, the words he was apparently about to say died in his throat when he saw Sheik - shirt off, jeans unbuttoned, reclining back against the pillows. His expression, he knew, wasn't so much alluring as perhaps nervous, but Link didn't seem to have any problem with it.

Tugging Link forward for another kiss, Sheik helped liberate him of his own shirt, glancing up at him before sliding the cargoes down his hips as well. Almost hungrily, he ran his eyes and his hands down Link's body - why had he waited so long for this? Any reason he could think of now seemed absurd.

"Okay," he whispered, and kissed him again, wanting to be closer to him than he had ever wanted to before. "Happy birthday."


	9. Hidden in the Darkness

Approximately a month had passed since his birthday, and Link was beginning to get the distinct impression that he was being followed.

It was paranoia, of course - just simple paranoia that had him looking over his shoulder, jumping at his own shadow. Wasn't it?

He first had it confirmed in class. It was chemistry, his least favourite - equations and chemical formulae made no sense to him, endless pages of things to memorise then never use again. How was he supposed to know, for instance, when to use that formula over that one?

So, in lieu of actually listening to the droning lecture (the actual laboratory part was a different day - a pity, as that was actually reasonably fun), Link was busy multitasking - part dozing, part fiddling with his Rubik's cube, part drawing rude cartoons in the margins, taking the occasional time out from his multitasking procrastination to stare blankly out the window.

Which was when he spotted it.

A human figure, lurking beneath a tree bordering the quadrangle - it shouldn't have been surprising in itself, but something made him sit up and take a closer look. It wasn't the black hair or the black clothing or the fact that he seemed to be staring straight back at him - it was the fact that his skin was black too, like he had been drenched in ink.

There were no races in Hyrule with black skin, were there? Hylians and Rito tended to be fair, Sheikah and Gerudo tanned - but this was well beyond tanned. Zora tended to be so pale they almost had a blue-ish tinge to their skin; Gorons were dark as well - but certainly not this dark.

This seemed - well - unnatural.

Turning to Zelda to ask if she had ever heard of black skin, he found her absorbed in solving an equation instead. Rolling his eyes, Link turned back to stare at the dark figure again - and started.

He was gone.

 

Still puzzling over the precise complexities of calculating the concentration of hydroxide ions in a solution given only a scant few salient points, Zelda was almost pleased to get out in to fresh spring air. She did like chemistry, honestly, but even she tired of the teacher sometimes, craving something a little more humanities-oriented.

...Then, of course, there was the question that Link had just posed. "Hey, Zelda, I was curious about something," he had asked almost shiftily. Zelda raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes?"

"Are there any races in Hyrule that have black skin? Like, not just tan, actually pitch black?" There was something beyond curiosity in his face, though - there was a purpose for his question, something that had prompted the questioning.

"Not that I know of," she answered, suddenly burningly curious to find out why he had asked in the first place. "Why?"

"...No reason."

Zelda stared at him suspiciously for a moment. "...If you insist," she said in the same tone,

Link gave her a weak smile. "I'm going to the library," he suddenly announced, "I've got, uh, a project. See you guys later." And he leaned over, gave Sheik a quick kiss (he had only just arrived, and thus had missed the questioning), and took off.

"That was odd," Zelda murmured.

"Link is always odd," Sheik said with feeling, "What did he do this time?"

"He asked if any races in Hyrule had pitch black skin," she shrugged, gratified at least that Sheik looked as bewildered at her answer as she felt. Abruptly, she changed the subject. "Are you coming to Telma's this afternoon?"

Sheik grimaced a little. "I can't, I have practise for Exhibition."

Exhibition, as the name had suggested, was part of the annual Summer Festival. The first day of the two-day festival was dedicated to a showcase of skill from all around Hyrule - Castle City High School was a regular and enthusiastic participant in it, showing off their feats in creativity, athleticism, and traditional skills.

Both Link and Sheik were involved in Exhibition this year - Link would take place in the fencing tournament, Sheik in a gymnastics showcase. Zelda was not taking part - very few people wanted to hear someone talk about Hyrulean history and mythology, she had discovered - but she would certainly be an enthusiastic audience member.

"How's the routine going?" she asked curiously.

Sheik gave a fluid shrug of his shoulders. "Passable. I tried to put in a few parkour moves and got told off - apparently it's not 'real' gymnastics." He snorted softly. "As if it isn't ever more practical."

"They don't want practical," she pointed out, "They want flashy."

He made a discontent noise. "I guess." Then, with a glance at his watch and a curse that made Zelda punch his arm, he pulled a face and gave her a quick half hug. "I have to go - we're supposed to meet up straight after class."

Zelda frowned briefly - with Sheik off at class, Midna having a meeting with the Advanced Hyrulean History student teacher, Shad, and Link off doing... whatever he was doing, she would be all alone for the afternoon. "Okay," she said lightly instead, "I'll see you at home."

And then he was off again, and Zelda was alone.

Except that she wasn't - when she turned around, she almost jumped out of her skin to see a girl directly in front of her. She couldn't have been any older than eleven or twelve - thirteen, at the most - dressed in a pale blue tank top, knee-length floral print skirt, and sandals. Her blonde hair was tied up in twin pigtails, an expression in her blue eyes that she suddenly found disconcertingly familiar.

"May I help you?" Zelda asked politely.

The girl smiled uneasily, scuffing one sandal-clad foot against the ground. "Maybe," she said softly, and then looked up and let her smile brighten in to a genuine one. "I'm looking for someone - are you in eleventh grade? He's in eleventh grade."

"I am," Zelda nodded. And while she certainly wasn't friends with everyone in the year, she at least knew all of their names. "Who are you looking for? And what's your name?" she added, almost as an afterthought.

"I'm Aryll," the girl almost chirped, "I'm down at the lower school - you know." She pulled a face. The lower school was larger, less well-funded, and received far less prestige - while technically it was also part of Castle City High School, it was the upper school and its Program that received all the accolades, talent, and funding.

But Aryll didn't seem to be bothered by her part of the school's lower rating - she perked straight up immediately. "I'm looking for someone named Link. Do you know him?"

Zelda blinked. "I do, actually. He's one of my best friends."

Aryll's face lit up. "Really? Can you take me to him?" she asked eagerly, almost bouncing from foot to foot. "I have to talk to him!"

"Why?" Zelda asked curiously. The thought did cross her mind that, perhaps, Link was about to start getting minions as well - the girl could not just be a girl, but a fangirl.

For a moment, Aryll didn't answer straight away, ceasing her little dance. Then she gulped, took a deep breath, and said, "I have to talk to him because... well." She glanced away, then back at Zelda. "Because he's my brother."

 

Sheik, for his part, had never made it to practise.

It wasn't that bad in the long run - he knew his routine, and even if he missed it, there would be other practises - others over this week, even - that he could catch up during. However, the way it happened still managed to catch him by surprise.

He had been sidetracked by the necessity of having to make a sudden detour. A few of Purlo's friends, ones that hadn't exactly been fans of him ever since Link had made a mockery of their leader, had suddenly emerged from the side of a building. Sheik hastily retreated into an alcove, scrambling up it easily to reach the next floor.

There, perched on a window sill, he had slinked around to one side, pushed off, landed in a crouch, and taken off at a rapid jog.

Had they seen him? He wasn't sure. But from what he could tell when he glanced backwards, they seemed to be settling down for a while.

Directly in front of the gymnasium, as it was.

Well, so much for practise. Making sure to remain unseen, he decided to make a tactical retreat, heading straight for the parkland on the other side of the hill.

There were a few picnic tables there, and a children's playground, and a small field fringed with trees. His destination, however, was an old bridge - it had once crossed a stream, but that stream was now long since dried up, lined with pebbles and sediment that it had once carried.

Beneath the bridge, though, was a small, enclosed area. It was barely visible from any vantage point save the gap the water had once flowed through, light filtering in from the widely-spaced boards above it ensuring that it wasn't a dank, dark hole.

Sheik was rather fond of it.

Settling back against one side, he gazed up at the striped sky above - the sun was still relatively high, slanting down on his face - closing his eyes, he let it warm his skin.

It was almost nice, here - dark, and quiet, and free of people. Here, he could be alone.

Except for the minor inconvenient fact that he wasn't.

 

Link's search had proved fruitless.

Not one book had told him about any Hyrulean races, present or past, that had had pitch black skin. No races from the lands surrounding Hyrule had had pitch black skin. Not one book had told him of any bizarre medical conditions which could turn someone's skin black (well, he had been desperate).

The closest he had come to finding anything out was a reference in a book of mythology to meeting one's own dark side, but even that had only hinted that their appearance was in any way out of the ordinary.

And anyway, that was only a fairy tale.

Disconcerted after his useless search, he left the library only to find Zelda and another girl walking in to it. She stopped just short of actually colliding with him, a faint expression of relief in her face.

"I told you I'd find him," she told the girl with a slight smile.

Link gave Zelda a bewildered look. "Were you looking for me?" he asked cautiously, frowning slightly at the girl - she looked familiar, somehow, but where from?

Glancing back at the girl, Zelda nodded once. "Link, this is Aryll," she introduced; "Aryll... this is Link." She glanced around and quirked a quick smile, reaching for Link's arm. "Perhaps we should find somewhere a little more private?"

Now he was definitely confused. "Lead the way," he said with a slightly bemused smile.

They had led him to a spot near the cafeteria, a sunny spot with comfortable seating. While Zelda had made herself scarce to get them all a drink, Link was left alone with Aryll.

"Why did you want to talk to me?" had been his first question.

Aryll shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "How old are you?" she finally asked, a slight tremor of anxiety in her voice. From out of her bag, she had tugged a stuffed seagull - now she was holding it on her lap, hugging it to her stomach like it was a security blanket.

Link frowned. "I turned seventeen a month ago." That was... a particularly odd question to ask someone who had only just met him, wasn't it?

But Aryll didn't seem to think so - instead, she nodded. "I turned fourteen six months ago - I'm older than I look," she added a little sheepishly, "When I turned fourteen, you were sixteen years and seven months. When I was born, you would have been two years and seven months old."

She took a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut. "How old were you when you were left at the Home?"

Link's first instinct was to shout, to ask how she had known he was from the Home, what their relative ages had to do with anything - but almost just as immediately, the realisation at what she was getting at with her dates. "I was," he started, mouth dry. "I was two years and seven months old."

Aryll nodded, looking down at her knotted hands. "You were left there two days after my Mum died giving birth to me," she said softly. "Daddy had died when Mum was still pregnant with me - he was a soldier, and he got killed in an ambush." She took a breath that sounded almost like a shuddering sigh. "So when Mum died, a whole bunch of my relatives got together. One of my aunties had just lost a baby, so she wanted to take in another newborn."

She swallowed. "No one could take in my brother, so he was sent to an orphanage with a note saying his name and date of birth. He was two years and seven months old."

Link simply stared, unable to process the story Aryll had just told him. "I," he gulped, "I mean, you..." Steadying his voice through sheer force of will, he nearly whispered, "You're my sister?"

"I think so," she said softly. "I never knew my brother's name - I didn't even know I _had_ a brother until a few months ago."

Link smiled weakly. "I didn't even know I had a sister until about a minute ago, so I think we're even," he joked feebly. A sister - and presumably family.

She laughed a little, still hugging the stuffed seagull. "I had to look up every children's home in Hyrule," she told him, "I was trying to find someone who had been two and a half, fourteen and a half years ago. I found two - one was a Zora, and I didn't think my brother was a Zora."

Despite himself, Link chuckled.

"The other one was you," she said, her smile now a little distant, "And the nice man there told me that you went to this school. Which was really weird, 'cause you had been here all along and I had never met you."

Giving her a smile that was part a grimace, he reached across to pat her hand awkwardly. "What about the rest of our family?"

"Oh, we have those," she chirped, suddenly more cheerful again. "Here, let me get the photos..."

 

Zelda had returned a little while ago, but Link seemed to be lost in a world of his own. Well, she reflected, she'd probably be a little astonished as well if she had suddenly discovered she had a family she didn't know about.

Of course, the situation was different entirely. Yes, her mother had died when she was little, but she knew precisely who she had been - the sheer number of photos her father had kept was testament to that.

"I'm going to Telma's," she murmured, and Link barely managed a nod, too caught up in peering at the photos Aryll had brought. "See you there, I suppose."

And she had headed off.

Halfway there, she had decided not to go straight to Telma's after all. It was a nice spring day, after all - she felt like enjoying the sunshine, simply taking the time to wander for a little while.

She had popped in to the shopping district for a little while, making a few purchases - a dress for the Summer Festival, a few cute hair accessories, at least five more books. Yes, she may have had a slight addiction to reading, but that was certainly a healthy addiction to have.

Two novels, two history books, and one on the history of stringed instruments - that one was actually intended to be a gift for Sheik, who had harboured a love for stringed instruments since he had been old enough to grab at the guitar strings of the busker in the street. (He had been around two, if she recalled the story correctly - the busker had immediately laughed and showed him how to pluck the strings.) All in all, a fairly satisfying day of shopping.

She was in a buoyant mood by the time she was a few streets away from Telma's - her bags were swinging from her hands, the little purple music player tucked in her blazer pocket with the cords blasting classical music in to her ears. All in all, it was rather nice.

Until the muggers stepped out from the alley she had just passed by.

Zelda stopped short, eyes wide. The pocket knife Impa had given to her three years ago (purple painted wood, gold embossed writing reading, 'Dear Zelda, happy birthday! Take care. Love, Impa') was buried somewhere in the bottom of her bag, useless. She knew no combat skills, doubted her intellect would impress them enough to let her go - she thought of the two credit cards and the ninety rupees in her wallet that she would probably never see again, and gulped.

"Good afternoon," one said politely, a hand in his pocket - seemingly casual, but twitching ever so slightly. "That looks like a nice music player you have."

"Nice and expensive," his friend added, "Maybe a little too nice for a little girl like you."

"'Rutela's of Zorai'," the first one read off the bag holding her dress, "Ooh, those are expensive. And you don't really look like the kind of girl to save her greens." He smiled unpleasantly and pulled the knife out of his pocket. "Hand over the player and your wallet, and maybe we'll let you keep that pretty dress."

Zelda took a step back. "St-stay away," she stuttered, "I... my friends are right around the corner!"

"No they're not," the second one said.

"I'll scream!"

"No you won't," said the first one, glancing across at his companion. "Hold her still; see if she has anything else of value."

He took a step forward, and Zelda squeezed her eyes shut and shrieked.

...And then, much to her surprise, found herself unscathed.

She wasn't sure who was more surprised at the shimmering blue crystal she had suddenly found surrounding her, them or her - reaching for it with an expression of mingled shock and wonder, it extended with her hand. It did not, however, extend when one of the would-be muggers reached for it - it struck his hand and he howled as if he had just hit concrete.

Zelda didn't stop to think. She simply ran, the blue crystal ploughing both muggers down, weaving around other pedestrians to avoid sending them sprawling, as well.

By the time she was a block away, the crystal had started to fade, its hum starting to pick up an odd stutter. By the time she reached Telma's, it was gone - but that was alright, she was safe now, and, she noted as she nearly collapsed in to their regular booth, not alone.

Sheik and Link glanced up sharply from their milkshakes, and their pinched and haunted expressions rapidly shifting to concerned when they saw Zelda's state. "What's wrong?" Sheik asked urgently, "Zelda, are you alright?"

"Did something happen?" Link asked, swapping a worried glance with Sheik.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Zelda said softly, dropping her bags at her feet and her head in to her arms.

"Try us," Sheik said, and laughed hoarsely.

 

Sheik had had a most bizarre afternoon.

He had been relaxing under the bridge, watching the sunlight play over the years of names that had been carved there. And then he had noticed something bizarre - not just were the rays of light moving, but they were shrinking, growing shorter and narrower and disappearing in to the shadows.

And then they were gone, and even the weak light from the gaps he had crawled through in the first place didn't seem to reach his position.

Pitch black in the middle of the day.

There must have been something wrong with his eyes. He reached up to rub them and didn't quite make it all the way up - it was like trying to pull his hands through wet sand, resistance that made the movement slow and stop. He tried to tug his hands free and found himself quite unable to.

His legs were likewise immobilised, pulled awkwardly up to his chest with his hands up. Forget potentially getting beaten up - nothing was holding his head free. Sheik opened his mouth to scream.

And promptly found something slapped across it.

Sheik's eyes widened - an exterior observer would have noticed the red irises flash like a cat's in the dark. And then he was no longer in the park.

The world around him had changed. No longer restrained, he had leapt to his feet - even as his logical mind told him he was about to crack his head on the bottom of the bridge, he found himself able to stand fully. And reaching up, there was nothing above his head.

Either he had shrunk or he was no longer under the bridge. The latter seemed rather more likely.

"Alright," he murmured to himself, taking in the landscape - it was painted in blacks and greys, vaguely recognisable as the park but with some features - like the bridge - gone and others entirely new. The seep of darkness from near what he recognised as the children's playground - that was new. The softly luminous trees, veins of white light running through them - that was unexpected.

Glancing down, he noted that the former creek was still there, but now flowing with something that looked like black gas. Hastily, he scrambled up the bank - it was only knee-high, he doubted he would inhale it, but it was bitterly cold. And what if it was corrosive?

"Alright," he repeated, hands on his hips, "Who brought me here?"

And the answer came back, like a whisper on the wind.

"You were always here," it told him.

"No," he said firmly, although there was a hint of hesitation in his voice, "No, I am fairly certain I was in the park before. I've never seen this place before."

"Distant memories fade," the whispers replied - for a disconcerting moment, they appeared to come from all around him.

A little more openly hesitantly, he told the whispers, "I don't know this place - I've never seen it before." A deep breath, and then he asked, "What is it?"

"Shadow," the voices whispered, and suddenly the world changed again.

He was on a boat - it rocked beneath his feet, the creak of wood in water obvious even to someone who had never seen a boat in his life. But he had, hadn't he? The gold inlaid Triforce at his feet - he had seen it before. The clanging of the bell - he had heard it before. It was dark, but he wasn't alone - not with the whispers all around him.

"What is this place?" he demanded, panic making his voice a little higher pitched than he would have liked. "Where am I?"

More whispers, and this time, he could feel a physical caress against his cheek. He recoiled hard.

"Here lies Hyrule's bloody history of greed and hatred," it murmured, and a chill ran down his spine.

"Why am I here?" he whispered.

This time, the caress was more like an embrace. He stiffened, not wanting to fight his way through it - he didn't even want to touch it. Every hair stood on end, a chill so pervasive he started shivering running through him.

"You belong with us," it told him, and this time, a thread of warmth ran through the chill. "You are our child," it whispered almost maternally, "A passenger on the River of the Dead, ours for an eternity, bound to duty."

Sheik was frozen, unable to move, unable to scream a denial. He wasn't dead, he wasn't theirs, he wasn't bound to anything - but then, why did the words resonate within him?

"You can't see the way forward," it murmured, and he felt something almost physical brush through his hair. "Tricks full of ill will... Shadow Temple."

And that was simply too much. With a scream of denial, Sheik broke free of the shadowy embrace and bolted, teetering at the ship's edge. All that he could see below him was hidden in the darkness - no water, no shore, no light. No way out.

"This is the River of the Dead," the whispers said - it may have been his imagination, but there may have been an instant of concern in it.

"Then I'll see you in the next life," Sheik said with a manic, reckless grin, and jumped --

And found himself sprawled over his backpack under the bridge, sunlight filtering through the slats. Sheik grabbed his bag, ducked back through the opening, and practically threw himself in to the sunlight.

 

He had a family. That was the number one thing on Link's mind - he had a sister, and an uncle, and a grandmother - it didn't seem real yet, like that family belonged to some other Link, but logic told him that they had to be his family.

He had parted ways with Aryll a little while later, making sure to swap phone numbers to arrange a meeting with his family - and oh, that had seemed odd, in only a few years his family had become Sheik and Zelda instead - and heading off to Telma's to find Zelda.

Instead, he had found Sheik - shaken, leaning one hand against the wall he was following like a guide. He almost stumbled, and Link's concern increased.

"Sheik?" he asked gently, catching his other hand, "Are you okay?"

To his immense surprise, Sheik immediately spun around and buried his face against Link's chest. "You will not believe the afternoon I just had," he said shakily, hand fisted against the fabric of Link's shirt.

Hesitantly, knowing that Sheik wasn't particularly fond of public displays of affection, Link brought his arms up to pull him in to a hug, almost startled to feel him shaking. "What happened?" he asked, hopefully reassuringly.

Sheik didn't answer immediately, letting out a soft sigh before straightening up. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said weakly, a hesitant smile on his face. "Don't worry about it."

And those words were guarantee that he would indeed worry about it until he found out what happened, and, quite possibly, after. But Link wasn't about to push it - not with him in this state.

"Okay," he said, trying to look and sound confident, "We can work this out later."

"Alright," Sheik said with a hesitant smile, sighing. "Should we go to Telma's?"

Link nodded, suddenly craving a chocolate milkshake. "Yeah," he said, "That sounds good, I could -- Sheik?"

For between one step and another, Sheik's hand had disappeared out of his, the street had faded from view only to be replaced by mirror-like water that he seemed to be standing on top of and an island with a dead tree, and the only other inhabitant a boy with pitch-black skin.

For a moment, they stared each other down. And then he could see what he hadn't seen before - the other boy's features were like a mirror image of his own, the hair, although the colour of coal, cut in the same way. Even the black hoodie and cargoes and boots were a parody of his own.

"You were following me," he told his double, trying to sound confident.

" _You_ were following _me_ ," his double echoed, the infliction different but the voice exactly the same as his own.

A chill ran down Link's spine. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"You?" said the double, and this time the infliction _was_ identical.

"Stop that!" Link shouted, and, for once, his dark doppelganger didn't repeat it.

Instead, he gave a giggle - somehow, it seemed wrong, wrong beyond measure coming from a face identical to his own. And an image flashed in to Link's head - the show jumping competition. From his point of view, he was standing on the wrong side of one of the jumps, watching Epona and... himself racing towards him. And then he was watching Epona rearing up in terror, and watching himself go crashing to the ground (Link winced - he hadn't realised he had hit that hard), and the eyes he was looking through closing as a quiet chuckle sounded.

"You made me fall off Epona!" he accused.

His double smiled and, without ever seeming to move, he was suddenly in Link's face, his eyes similar but tinted red and very, very wide. A manic grin was on his face, a gleam in his eye.

"Shadow boy waits in mirror bright," he started saying, chanting the words like a sing-song nursery rhyme, "Waiting for his brother light."

Link took an involuntary step backwards. His twin took a step forward. "Time begins to break and bend," he crooned, "Waiting for the bitter end. You can struggle, you can try..."

And he grabbed the front of Link's shirt, his hands suddenly wrapped in black gauntlets, garbed in a tunic and a sword in his other hand, and screamed. "But in the end, you all will die!"

And Link found himself back on the street, gasping to try and pull air back in to his lungs, Sheik staring at him like he had seen a ghost.


	10. Your Hand in Mine

By the time summer was beginning and the school year ending, things had been thrown in to chaos.

Exams were coming up, preparations made for the Summer Festival later in the month - it would be held over the Solstice, a bookend and compliment to the festivities of winter. With only two weeks remaining in the school year, all preparations there were aimed squarely at one thing - the school dance to be held on the weekend.

And Shad, much to his dismay, had been forcibly volunteered as a chaperone.

Honestly, he hadn't even enjoyed school dances when he _was_ at school. Two years past that, and he was been forced back - even if it was in the official capacity of a student teacher chaperone and not as one of the students.

Still, he didn't feel much like a teacher. He had his own exams at Hyrule's largest institute of tertiary education, Hyrule Castle University, where he was a student of history - he was most reluctant to find himself back in the place where he had merely been a student under the jurisdiction of a twelfth grade curriculum.

He had recounted all of this to his associate Auru as the former soldier and historian, current teacher of Shop, and all-round tinkerer of mechanical objects worked over Shad's beloved car. Auru, never particularly talkative when he was focused on his work (to Shad's ever-lasting discomfort, he had once created something that bore a startling resemblance to a bazooka), had listened and nodded, straightening up from where he had been working over the engine and wiping his greasy hands off his coveralls.

"It seems to me," he said slowly, "You're worried about feeling like a student again."

"Quite possibly," Shad agreed, flushing a little. His school days had not been the most pleasant; the hierarchy inherent in schools made it uncomfortable for anyone who routinely wore argyle and enthusiastically discussed Hyrulean cryptozoology.

Auru didn't respond immediately, hitting something in the engine with a hammer and making Shad flinch. Almost absently, he patted the car - it was an antique, one he had inherited from his father and refurbished almost entirely by Auru on his own. Nicknamed the Dominion Rod, it was practically his most prized possession.

Finally, he spoke again. "Your lady friend, Ashei," he started - Auru had a habit of referring to all female companions as 'lady friends', but this time it seemed particularly awkward, Shad decided, flushing further - "Saw her in Telma's yesterday. Did you know she's chaperoning as well?"

Despite the uncomfortable start, Shad almost immediately brightened. "Oh, is she?" he asked, ignoring the flip in his stomach, "Wonderful! In that case, I shall have a companion to ward off boredom." And awkwardness.

Auru glanced up and gave him a slow smile. "I'm sure."

 

The next time Shad saw Ashei was that very evening. He had stopped by Telma's Bar and Restaurant - a most welcoming venue, one he had been going to since he was a child - and had found Ashei hard at work behind the bar. She held a job serving there three nights a week, and, purely by coincidence, he had found himself there on most of those nights.

A good brandy in the glass in front of him, he was making disjointed conversation between her having to rush off to serve customers every few minutes. It wasn't as if he never saw her otherwise, Shad knew logically - they saw each other all the time, both at university and at Castle City High School, where they both were student teachers. But actually getting to sit down and have a conversation - that was indeed a rarity these days.

At nine o'clock, the crowd started to shift from the family restauranters to the bar attendees. That, too, was when Ashei's shift ended - she tended to alternate between working during the restaurant hours and working during the bar hours. Today it was restaurant hours, something Shad was quite grateful for - if it had been the latter, she would not have reached the end of her shift until twelve o'clock midnight.

Settling in a booth with their drinks and a plate of antipasto to share, Shad was regaling her with his conversation with Auru - his reluctance to go to one of those horrid dances that had always ended up with him standing in a corner conversing with a pot plant, how pleased he was that at least this time he would have some pleasant company.

Ashei grimaced. "Three, don't remind me, yeah?" she muttered, "We have to dress up for this stupid thing, Shad. Actual formalwear!"

"I'm sure you would look simply smashing in whatever you chose to wear, Ash," he told her, hopefully reassuringly - she gave him a look that was half grateful, half a roll of her eyes.

"You wouldn't be saying that if I turned up in a burlap sack, yeah?" she teased, reaching across the table to smack him lightly on the arm (Shad winced minutely - Ashei's light smacks tended to be harder than most people's definition of 'light').

"I very well might," he teased back, and suddenly ducked his head as he found his glasses steaming up. Slipping them off to clean them (oh, look, and the world just went out of focus), he gave her a brief smile. "But in all honesty, I have my sincere doubts that you could look anything less than lovely."

Replacing his glasses, he was justified to see the sight of Ashei trying to hide the remains of a blush. "Yeah, well," she muttered, "We'll see, yeah?"

He gave her a game smile. "That we will."

 

The morning of the dance dawned bright and hot and sunny. Shad's suit was already in its plastic carrier, laid out neatly on the back seat of the Dominion Rod. It was, he hoped, at least reasonably conforming to the theme (vintage and retro, he was curious to see what Ashei would be wearing) - plum coloured velvet, complete with a natty bow tie. (Privately, Shad had previously thought it quite stylish, but Ashei's hysterical laughter when he had ventured that thought was quite enough to make him reconsider his opinion).

He certainly hoped the hall was air conditioned.

It was nearing late afternoon and only an hour or two away from starting time by the time he ventured inside, but already, the preparations were well underway. The previous sports equipment had been removed, long tables pushed against each of the longer walls. Already, there were paper tablecloths on some of them; Shad reached for the pile and began assisting in laying the rest out.

Ashei had arrived soon after, chatting with someone who appeared to be the caterer (if the boxes of food and drink he was carrying was any indication). They parted ways - the caterer heading to what would be serving as the kitchen for the night (really, the sporting equipment storage room, now equipped with a few tables and a refrigerator as well as balls, rackets, and bats), Ashei making a beeline for Shad.

"Shad," she said, "There's got to be a way out of this, yeah?" She looked distinctly put out, her hand twitching lightly as it rested against the table.

He gave her a mildly startled look. "I'm sure there is," he frowned, "But why do you wish to take it?"

If nothing else, her response only served to confuse him further. Looking shifty, she murmured, "Never mind, actually," and grabbed the end of the tablecloth (ostensibly to straighten it up) with enough enthusiasm that it tore slightly at the side. Ashei glared at it, flattening it out with her hand. "Well," she shrugged, "Not like the kids will notice by the time they get in here."

"Indeed," he said with a smile, deciding that pushing the issue of whatever was upsetting Ashei would perhaps not be the best idea and abruptly changing the topic. "Did you find a dre-- find something to wear?" he asked - the last he had known of, Ashei had been despairing of ever finding something to wear.

She gave him a mock glare. "Good save, yeah? I will _not_ wear a dress," she said firmly, although there was a hint of a smile twitching on her face. "Yeah, I found something. You're still going to wear that gross purple thing, yeah?"

"I would hardly call it 'gross'," Shad replied with a hint of teasing imperiousness in his tone. Hideous, perhaps - 'gross' was a more diminutive alternative than he would have preferred with regards to his habitual sesquipedalian loquaciousness.

"It's purple velvet," Ashei said flatly.

"Plum!"

She stifled laughter. "You are so..." she started, and then shook her head, still looking amused.

Shad smiled gamely at her. "I'm many things," he said cheerfully, utterly ignorant of whatever she was about to say and, for once, fine with it.

There - that was the last of the tables done. The food and drinks would have to stay refrigerated for as long as possible, so it was hardly worth setting them out now - all the poor students would have to eat and drink, then, would be spoiled food and room temperature soft drinks. Most of the decorations were set up, and up on the stage, the DJ was setting up his music booth.

Gallantly, he offered his arm to Ashei. "Well, my dear Ash," he started, "Shall we find somewhere to relax until we are needed to chaperone?"

Ashei gave a quiet snort of laughter, taking the proffered arm. "Yes, my dear Shad," she mimicked, "I do believe we should, yeah?"

Well, impressions didn't quite work when one's own verbal tics slipped in. But that was quite easily forgivable, especially when Ashei's seemingly improved mood. "Then," he announced, "We shall be off."

 

Three hours in, and Shad had found himself agreeing with his earlier assessment - whether he was a student or a chaperone, dances were not his first choice of entertainment.

The students were loud, the music was louder, and the soft drinks were room temperature already. Shad longed for a good brandy at Telma's, or a quiet night in with a good book, but instead he was standing in an overly decorated school hall, sweating in his plum coloured velvet suit, sipping a warm soft drink and watching two teenaged Rito blushing at each other and trying to find dance steps that wouldn't result in the two stepping on each other's feet.

The one bright spot in the evening, so far, had been Ashei. They had parted ways a little before the dance had started at six to get in to their clothes - him in the plum velvet suit, a white shirt with a wide collar and ruffles he hadn't actually noticed when he had bought it, a dark blue bow tie, and brown leather loafers with tassels at the top, her in a dark blue velvet bodysuit, cut asymmetrically at the top so that one arm was exposed. A silver belt sat at her hips, a silver cuff bracelet on her bared arm, and, beneath the flared pant legs, her usual boots (the ones that could cripple a man with a single kick).

Keeping a watchful eye on the students, they had made pleasant conversation, the situation somewhat uncomfortable but the company welcoming. It was, Shad reflected ruefully, in somewhat less than ideal surrounds, he would have preferred Ashei's company away from the prying eyes of adolescents.

Watching those adolescents, though, suddenly gave him an idea. Clearing his throat, he turned to Ashei, voice faltering before it ever emerged at the sudden paranoid idea of her laughing his proposal down, walking away, and kicking him in the knee before she did so for good measure.

"What're you staring at?" Ashei asked curiously, and that was enough for him.

"Willyogodanwime?" he said in a rush.

Ashei blinked. "You're going to have to slow it down a little, yeah?" she teased, a faint smirk on her face.

Shad took another deep breath, and said, "Would you like to go and dance with me?"

Ashei blinked again.

Shad wilted a little. That did not look encouraging.

"We're working, yeah?" she pointed out, "We've got to keep an eye on these little buggers."

"Then afterwards?" he suggested uncertainly, "When we are off-duty."

She shrugged again, an acutely uncomfortable expression on her face. "Don't think so, yeah?" she said in a supreme effort to sound nonchalant, and if it wasn't for the fact that Shad had known her since they were four, the effort may well have worked. "Fencers don't really dance."

"Ah, of course we do," proclaimed a loud voice from behind them - Shad jumped as Rusl, the fencing instructor at the school and Ashei's mentor, came up from behind, draping two big arms over their shoulders. "I met Uli at one of these things," he told the two, "And I was definitely a fencer back then."

Shad blinked a little. Was Rusl getting at what he thought he was getting at? He knew the man reasonably well - he was another regular at Telma's Bar and Restaurant, and as Ashei's mentor, he certainly garnered his respect. If he had guessed what Shad had been getting at when he had asked Rusl things about Ashei...

Ashei shot Rusl a glare. "Maybe you're just an outlier, yeah?" she suggested sarcastically.

Rusl shrugged good-naturedly. "Maybe," he said lightly, then promptly proceeded to point out his students amongst the dancers. "Link is, Green is, Blue... ah, Blue may not be the best example..." He continued on, and Ashei's expression shifted to somewhat speculative.

"Huh," she commented, "Link's boyfriend is cute."

Shad sucked in a breath, caught Ashei's hands, and pulled her out on to the dance floor.

Ashei simply stared at him for a moment, scowling. "Shad, _what_ are you doing?"

"We," he said firmly, "Are dancing." Ashei's hands still in his, he began to lead her in to a dance, moving somewhat in time to the music.

Or, as it seemed, they weren't. Ashei tugged her hands free, frowning. "I don't dance," she told him flatly.

Shad gave her his best wheedling look - bright blue puppy dog eyes over the tops of his glasses, something alarmingly resembling a pout on his face. A muscle in Ashei's jaw twitched.

"Shad," she said almost pleadingly, "This isn't fair. I don't dance."

"Neither do I," he said, taking her hands again - he didn't go any further, just stood there with her hands in his, meeting her eyes. "Rusl can keep an eye on everyone for a few more minutes. Just one song?"

The song had just changed - from fast-paced rock to something a little slower and easier to move to. "Just follow my movements," he instructed, "Move your feet to the music and let your body follow."

She hadn't moved yet. "I don't dance," she repeated, then ducked her head and corrected herself: "I _can't_ dance."

"I can teach you, Ash," Shad reassured. He truly did want to do this - not once during his high school years had he ever danced with someone. Now he had the opportunity to, and the only one he wanted to dance with was Ashei. "Please."

She smiled faintly. "Well, you've said the magic word now, yeah?" she grinned a little, looking faintly sheepish.

This was proving to perhaps be a mistake. For all of Ashei's grace with a fencing sword, it had seemed to desert her out on the dance floor - Shad winced as, for the third time, her booted foot landed on his thin loafer.

"Sorry," she said again, cringing. "Told you this was a bad idea, yeah?"

"Nonsense," Shad said, managing to smile past his bruised feet. "It's all part of the experience."

Well, a quick glance around, at least, seemed to prove that there would be at least a few bruised feet by the end of the night - still, Shad had got his from dancing with Ashei, and thus would put up with any amount of discomfort simply for the experience.

The dance had ended, and Shad and Ashei had returned to watching over the other students. It was beginning to get late, the songs verging more towards more romantic. Many of the younger students had already left, thinning the crowd out considerably - there were more slow dances, more close embraces, and at least one pair of students that Ashei had had to separate due to their impending actions that simply were not appropriate in a school environment.

There had been more dancing, too. The initial awkwardness over, and with Rusl volunteering to keep an eye on things, Ashei seemed somewhat more inclined to move out to the dance floor. She was improving, too, stepping on his feet far less - this was, quite possibly, due to the fact that she had removed her boots a few dances ago and was now barefoot on the floor.

The night was about to reach its end. The last song was announced, the few people remaining - couples, mostly, although a few stubborn singles determined to see out the night were present as well - on the dance floor. Shad held Ashei as close as he dared, although at this point, she seemed quite happy to stay close.

Still, he almost jumped in surprise when she moved to lay her head on his shoulder - it was comfortable and intimate and warm, and he was finally content just to be with her.

"The dance is about to finish," he said in a whisper, murmuring it in to her rounded ear, "It wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Was about to say the same thing to you, yeah?" she grinned a little, then nodded. "Yeah. It was sort of nice."

"Just nice?" he asked with a slight smile, taking a deep breath. Well, no time like the present, and if he didn't, he would quite possibly regret it, and the song was coming to an end, and what if she didn't like it, and what if it ruined their friendship, and...

And the part of his mind that refused to over think things firmly told him to shut up, so Shad dipped his head to kiss her.

She didn't kiss back straight away, but neither did she slap him. That was a reassuring sign, at least. Pulling back, she blinked at him.

"...Nice," she said with a grin, then kissed him again. "Wanna go make out in the Dominion Rod?"

Shad grinned back. "I thought you'd never ask."


	11. The Summer Festival Begins

By the time of the last week of the school year, the disconcerting experience a week or two back (mostly) set out of his mind, Link's attention was being drawn by one thing - exams.

It was the end of eleventh grade, a long, hot summer stretching out before him. In two weeks was the Summer Festival, and then he'd return back to the Home for the weeks before twelfth grade started. He had no plans, other than spending as much time as possible in the city with Sheik and Zelda, no anticipation for the future - he would simply be cool and calm and take things as they came.

Such as the neat envelope he had found in his locker that morning, his name written on the front in Headmaster Sahasrahla's characteristic neat script. Staring for a moment, he picked it up and carefully unsealed it, revealing a single printed sheet requesting his presence in the Headmaster's office during lunch.

"Oh," said Zelda from behind him, holding an identical envelope, "You got one as well?"

"Yeah," Link frowned, scanning her letter - it was identical, save for the differing names.

"Maybe everyone got one?" Zelda suggested - although a swift glance around showed that, no, not everyone was holding an envelope.

One other person was - Sheik, holding his with a concerned expression on his face. "What do you think these are for?" he asked as soon as he saw Link and Zelda's envelopes, "This is... very perplexing. I haven't seen anyone else with them."

Link nodded, still frowning at the letter. It was a puzzle, he decided, one maddening enough that he couldn't solve it. And Link hated not being able to solve things. "We can ask Midna if she got one," he suggested, and Zelda's expression brightened.

"Good idea," she told them, "I'll go find her." And she darted off.

Now alone, Link gave Sheik a scrutinising look. "How have you been sleeping?" he asked softly - ever since the... incident, Sheik had routinely been having nightmares where he was lost in a world of shadow. His least favourite ones, the ones that felt the most true, featured nothing but the creaking of wood, the clanging of a bell, darkness and whispers surrounding him.

"Enough," Sheik murmured. Link gave him a look of concern - there were shadows under his eyes, his expression weary.

"You should -" he started, then stopped when Zelda returned, Midna in tow.

"I didn't get a letter," Midna told them, frowning. "I expect that is understandable, though - I am not a true part of this school."

"Nonsense!" Zelda told her brightly, "As long as you're in Hyrule, you have a place here." But there was a note of concern in her voice - Midna had been in Hyrule for nearly six months, already. What little intelligence they could garner from her homeland was that the situation there had only worsened - the borders had been officially closed, the officials within - and by officials, he meant Zant - citing some pandemic. Link sympathised with the Twili - he knew what it was like to feel like you didn't belong.

"Oh," Midna said suddenly, changing the subject, "How did the meeting with your family go, Link?"

Speaking of not belonging... Link pulled a face and shrugged. "It went okay," he muttered, "It was weird, though. I know Aryll's my sister, and that her grandmother is my grandmother, and that her uncle is my uncle, but..." Another shrug. "It's like they're the sister and grandmother and uncle of some other Link. They don't feel like family."

Zelda gave him a sympathetic look. "Yes," she said softly, "It would be quite bizarre." And Sheik, his fellow orphan, reached out and gave his hand a squeeze.

"Perhaps they will seem more like family in time," he suggested, "It's still new."

"I guess," he shrugged, even as the bell rang. "Class," he told them unnecessarily, "And the Lit exam. I guess we'll find out what these -" he held up a letter - "Are about at lunch."

Arrangements made so that Midna could find out what the letters were about as soon as they found out themselves, the four headed off for the first class - and exam - of the day.

 

The morning had seemed to progress at a crawl. Link, along with Sheik and Midna, had had his first exam first thing in the morning, and he was certain he would fail - if only because he was so utterly distracted by the anticipation of finding out what the letter was about. Another class, the mid-morning break (where he discovered that Ilia had been given a letter as well), and his most distracted and spacey fencing practise yet - and then it was lunchtime, and he was waiting outside Headmaster Sahasrahla's door, almost shaking from nerves and excitement.

He wasn't alone, of course - Zelda had already been there when he had arrived, Midna as well (for moral support). Malon, to his surprised, had showed up next - Ilia had joined her, then Sheik. And then, finally, Ruto - she gave him a long stare, then pointedly looked away.

A minute after they were all assembled, the door opened, and Headmaster Sahasrahla gave them a casual once-over. Then, glancing at a sheet of paper, he called off, "Malon, Ilia, Ruto, and Sheik - I'll talk to you four first, hmm?"

Sheik shot Link and Zelda a nervous glance, then followed the girls in to the room.

It was a long wait for Link, Zelda, and Midna. Zelda seemed too nervous to speak, squeezing Midna's hand like a lifeline - Link, for his part, had taken up pacing. It seemed to take an eternity, although the constant checks Zelda had made of her watch showed it was only around ten minutes before the door opened again, and Sheik, Malon, Ilia, and Ruto exited.

Ruto rushed off immediately, a distinctly glum look on her face. Ilia looked similarly subdued, although Malon simply looked intrigued. And Sheik... well, his expression was simply unreadable.

"What did he tell you?" Link almost demanded, but there was no time for an answer - Headmaster Sahasrahla was at the door already, peering out at them. "Zelda and Link, please," he stated, giving Sheik a nod.

Sheik smiled back weakly. "Good luck," he said to Link and Zelda, flopping in the seat Zelda had just vacated.

"Er, thanks," Link responded, puzzled but following Zelda in to the Headmaster's office nonetheless.

"Take a seat," he told the two. They did, nervously.

Taking his own seat, he gave the pair a speculative look, just long enough to be uncomfortable. Then, he finally started to speak.

"You are, of course, well aware that the Summer Festival is in two weeks time," he started. Link nodded - was this about Exhibition? He had his part in the fencing tournament, of course, but then why would the others be involved?

"Well, then," Sahasrahla said, "Are you aware of the Summer Court?"

Link shrugged a little, but beside him, Zelda nodded enthusiastically. "I lost count - is that this year?" she asked, almost excitedly.

"The name rings a bell - what is it?" Link asked - he was sure he had heard the name before, knew that it was important somehow. But how? That, he could not work out.

Sahasrahla folded his hands over the desk. "The Summer Court," he explained, "Is a special part of the Summer Festival - it occurs every ten years, and is, in essence, a ceremony dedicated to the celebration of the Goddesses and the Ancient Sages. To this end, representatives are selected for each Court."

Beside him, Zelda's eyes were wide.

Link remained motionless - that was why he remembered it. He had only just been seven years old, but there had been a trip over there.

"Your friends -" Sahasrahla gestured in the direction of the door - "Have been selected to represent four of the Sages. You two, however, serve a far more important role.

"Zelda," he started, "You have consistently scored the highest test results in the school. You are at the very top of all of your classes - aside from Calculus, but that hardly comes under the category of Wisdom," he added with a smile.

He gave the stunned girl a friendly pat on the hand. "To wit, you have been selected to represent the Wise Princess, the representative of Nayru."

There was a long silence, then Link grinned suddenly. "Awesome," he said, leaning over to give Zelda a sideways hug, "Why am I here?"

"Ah," Sahasrahla grinned, "Wisdom's scion is hardly the only position needed to be filled. There's a position associated with Farore, as well - the Courageous Hero. Here, the values emphasised are skill in swordplay, archery, and horse riding."

Link blinked.

"I am sure you can guess who we have selected to be the representative of Farore," he smiled.

Link nodded dumbly. "Whu - what do we have to do for it?" he asked, the surprise very obvious in his voice.

Sahasrahla drew out two large envelopes, handing one each to them. "Learn these scripts," he told them, "There isn't a great deal, but it's required that you at least know your parts. There are also instructions for the day in there. You will need to report for your costume fitting tomorrow afternoon - here's the address -" He slid two cards across to them.

"The ceremony itself is reasonably short - ten minutes, including prayers. It doesn't last long, but it's important," he continued.

Link nodded again, still faintly stunned, tucking the script and card away. Zelda, for her part, simply looked elated.

"Thank you," she nearly whispered, eyes bright - to Link, it suddenly seemed that she was born for the role, born to be the Wise Princess. His role as the Courageous Hero - that seemed a little more doubtful.

"I wish you both the best of luck," Sahasrahla said, suddenly misty-eyed, leaning across to shake both their hands. "Goddesses bless you both."

Politely extracting his hand, Link smiled back, still faintly stunned, and made his exit.

The Courageous Hero - him?

 

The afternoon classes, to contrast with the morning, went by in a blur. Surreptitiously, Link had spent the entirety of his classes reading over the scripts, mouthing his lines - it wasn't very long, the ceremony, but it was complicated, each part signified only by their roles - The Hero, The Princess, and The King. He was suddenly reminded of the children's game - Hero, Princess, King.

Hero defeats King, King captures Princess, Princess outranks Hero. He was fine with Zelda outranking him, but still - who was the King?

He was still in a fog by the time class finished and he found himself at Telma's. The booth was crowded, today - not only were Sheik, Zelda, and Midna there, but Malon and Ilia as well (Sheik was practically in his lap to make some more space). They had all ordered drinks, but the milkshakes and soft drinks went largely ignored - the little group was too intent in discussing their new roles.

"The representatives of the Sages tend to keep their roles," Sheik was explaining, "And replacements are selected from young people - I suppose that's us - when the previous representatives die or retire. Ruto's mother was the previous representative of the Sage of Water," he told Link and Zelda, "She died when Ruto was nine. That was why she was so upset. And Ilia --"

"Replaces Saria," Link said softly. "I forgot - I was only seven, but she had some big important thing to do at the Summer Court when we went there. I guess that was representing the Sage of Forest - the youngest representative in history."

Ilia reached over to squeeze his hand, Link squeezed back. She alone knew how he felt.

Clearing her throat gently, Malon continued: "People also willingly hand their positions over, or retire, I guess. My grandfather Rauru's represented the Sage of Light for fifty years - I guess he decided it was my turn." She giggled a little, ducking her head. "And Sheik, your - was it your aunt?"

Sheik nodded. "Yes, Aunt Impa. I suppose she decided it was my turn to represent the Shadow." He gave a smile that wasn't a smile, was more a grim stretch of the lips - recalling what Sheik had told him about that experience the other week, Link gave him a concerned look.

Glancing back, Sheik shook his head minutely and mouthed, "Not now." Link nodded, not saying anything but wrapping his arm around Sheik's waist to give him as much comfort as possible, and was rewarded by Sheik shifting to lean against him with a tiny sigh.

On Sheik's other side, Zelda was asking, "Did you find out who was representing the Sages of Fire and Spirit? Or the Powerful King - the representative of Din?" She looked sheepish for a moment. "I, er... forgot to ask."

Ilia shook her head. "No, the Headmaster didn't tell us," she frowned, "Not that anyone actually _asked_. Although we have to meet up on the first day of the Festival, so I guess we'll find out then."

"I guess we will," Zelda said, and smiled.

 

The days leading up to the Summer Festival seemed to go in a rush. The costume fittings had been the very next day - the five of them had agreed not to show off their new outfits until the second day of the Festival, when the Court would take place (Link was privately fond of his - it was predominantly green, his favourite colour - still, that was only to be expected for one representing Farore).

And then the rest of the time was packed with learning the complicated and elaborate lines, practising for the Exhibition (at least, Link and Sheik were - Zelda and Midna were not involved in it, and Malon and Ilia were simply assisting with the horse show - there would be no competition riding for them this year), and, naturally, working on exams.

The exams and assignments ended, and the summer holidays began. Now that the boarding house had closed, Link was to stay with Sheik and Zelda for the week until the Summer Festival before heading back to Kokiri. (Officially, he had been given a guest room. Unofficially, it was simply a room to store his belongings in.) The days were spent relaxing - exploring, taking a train trip down to the Lake Hylia region to go swimming, spending time in Telma's Bar and Restaurant.

All too quickly, the first day of the Summer Festival was upon them. It was brilliantly sunny, not a single cloud in the sky, and already hot by the time Link arrived downstairs for breakfast at Zelda and Sheik's house.

The Prime Minister had already eaten, apparently, and was doing some last-minute work before leaving. But Impa was still there, as well as Sheik and Zelda, both tucking in to bowls of fruit salad. Link scooped some up for himself and plopped in to a seat next to Sheik, giving him a sunny smile.

"All ready?" he said both to him and Zelda, shovelling a forkful of melon and pineapple in to his mouth. "Ee god da eabishun ro -- sorry." Swallowing the mouthful, he repeated, "We've got the Exhibition program now - the gymnastics thing is at quarter past three and goes for an hour, and the fencing tournament is at half past eleven and goes... however long it takes, I guess," he shrugged. "And the horse show is at two. What do you want to do between then?"

Leaning over his shoulder to peer at the program, Zelda pointed a few things out - "I wouldn't mind seeing the animals," she suggested, "And some of the craft fairs could be nice, and the agricultural stuff. I know Midna wants to get more Kokiri honey."

"I want to see the musical showcase, too," Sheik added, chin resting on Link's shoulder. "Hmm - that's right after the gymnastics showcase."

"Nearby, though," Link replied with a glance at the map, "We can get there easy enough."

"That's settled, then," Zelda smiled, readjusting her hair again - it was oddly asymmetrical, loose and curled on one side and the braid down her back flipped over her other shoulder, large silk flowers pinned up in it - aside from the bronze cuff on her upper arm and the pale blue slip-ons, she was dressed in a loose blue and purple sundress, sleeveless and floaty.

Link envied her for a moment. Her outfit looked a lot cooler than the khakis and neat, pale green button-up shirt she had found for him (and significantly cooler than Sheik's navy blue pants and similarly-cut lighter blue shirt).

Still, the Summer Festival was an event where it helped to be dressed up. Especially the three of them - tomorrow, after all, they had a job to do and would most assuredly have to look their best.

Link had an inkling that tomorrow would be a big day.

 

But first, day one of the Festival was about to begin, and it was a distinctly more relaxed affair. It was a little after ten, meaning there would be at least an hour and a half before they were due anywhere (Sheik's gymnastics exhibition) and they could, at least for the moment, relax.

Of course, they would have to escape from the press, first - spotting the Prime Minister on an outing with his daughter, his main advisor and her nephew, and the nephew's 'friend', they had wanted to take a few snaps and get a few words from the parties involved. Link had been somewhat elbowed to one side where he lingered awkwardly, a slightly gangly add-on to what had been dubbed Hyrule's unofficial Royal Family.

They had only just escaped that when a vaguely familiar figure jogged up, wheezing. "Link, Zelda - oh, Sheik, you're here too, good," wheezed Rauru, Malon's grandfather and the former representative of the Sage of Light. He was also, due to his vast experience with the Summer Court and its ceremony, its new director and Master of Ceremonies.

"Good morning, Rauru," Zelda smiled politely, "Are we needed today?"

"Just for a little while," he reassured, "We've been arranging a meeting and final rehearsal between the various members of the Court - our Representative for Din is a busy man and can only be here for a little while, so we've arranged it for half past eleven. Should only take an hour or so."

Link promptly blanched. "I can't," he said immediately, "That's when the fencing tournament is."

Rauru frowned a little. "Well, I'm afraid you're going to have to miss it," he said bluntly, "This is far more important."

"I've been practising for it for four months!" he said, arms crossed across his chest, glowering. "I'm not about to miss it because some wanker decides he's too import--"

" _Link_ ," Zelda warned, shooting him a look.

Link shook his head fiercely. He had been practising for nearly half a year, ever since the tournament had been scheduled. He had a good chance of winning (if ever he could defeat Rusl), he had been anticipating it for months - and now it was going to be scratched at the eleventh hour because some idiot decided he was too important to wait another few hours? He had already registered, for Three's sake! "Can't you make him reschedule?" he protested, "Zelda's Dad is taking the entire day off, what does this guy do that's so important?"

"Manages the entire military of Hyrule, actually," Rauru said dryly. Beside him, Zelda blanched. "This is non-negotiable, Link," he continued, "You _will_ report to the Pavilion at half past eleven precisely."

And he turned and walked away; missing the fierce glare Link was aiming at his back.

"Stuck-up old prick," he muttered under his breath, kicking a nearby stone away, "Thinks he can tell me what to do..."

Sheik slid his hand in to Link's, squeezing it reassuringly. "I'm sorry," he said sympathetically.

"Yeah," Link sighed, "So am I."

 

By twenty-five past eleven, Link, Sheik, and Zelda had already reported in to the Pavilion. Link was still sulking about missing the fencing tournament - although with some luck, they could wrap up the entire rehearsal inside the space of ten minutes and still make it back in time for his first duel.

It wasn't very likely, but it was a possibility. A slim, distant, vague possibility.

Waiting in the Pavilion with the others (most, he recognised - the other two, a Gerudo woman and a Goron man, were new to him), Link groaned a little when he heard Rauru's voice from outside - "Ah, Mr Dragmire, you're right on time." A pause, then, "Oh, no, no inconvenience to anyone."

"Liar," Link muttered, standing with the rest as Rauru led the man in.

"Everyone," he said in his most officious voice, "This is Ganondorf Dragmire, the Minister for Defence and our representative of the Powerful King."

Beside Link, Zelda fainted.

There was immediately uproar. Sheik had managed to catch Zelda before she hit the ground, and now he was carefully laying her down on the row of chairs against the wall, her feet propped up. Malon had given a soft shriek, rushing to Zelda's side; Ilia close behind her - Link, for his part, simply stood there, stunned.

Reaching out, he brushed a strand of hair out of her face - she was pale, her skin clammy. "Zelda?" he murmured, patting her cheek. Sheik gave her a concerned look then glanced back at Link, shrugging helplessly.

And behind them, Ganondorf stood impassive, watching her with an unreadable expression on his face.

It only took a minute for Zelda to stir, but it seemed like the longest minute of Link's life. Her eyelids flickered then opened, glazed blue eyes staring up at the ceiling before focusing on the nearest face to hers (Link's).

"Sorry," she murmured, then switched her gaze to Ganondorf. It was almost remarkable, Link decided, watching the warmth fade from her eyes when she looked at him. "I must apologise," she said, not sounding particularly apologetic, "I do not feel very well - if possible, I'd like to reschedule the rehearsal for an hour or so."

"Impossible," Rauru blustered, "Mr Dragmire is a very important man."

Ganondorf raised a hand, staring hard at Zelda. Zelda matched the stare. "No," he said, and his voice sent a chill of horror down Link's spine. "If the little girl is unwell, then you may rehearse later. I will see if I can fit time in to my busy schedule to accommodate her."

"That would be fine," Zelda said primly, and then turned to Link. "Oh - if we're not going to rehearse now, I suppose you can get to the tournament now," she said with a faintly mischievous smile.

Link grinned back. "You sure you're okay?"

"I will be," she smiled back, still looking weak and shaken - Link knew her well enough to tell when she was acting, and silently, he thanked her for it. "Good luck!"

"Thanks," he smiled, then leaned down to hug her, winked at Sheik, and ran, ignoring Rauru's blustering and Ganondorf's silent stare.

He had a tournament to win.


	12. The Stuff of Legends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Innuendo, violence, character death

For the past week, Sheik had become accustomed to waking up, warm and comfortable, curled up against Link with the Hylian's arms around him. It was something new, this physical intimacy, but one he was certainly enjoying - it was almost soothing, waking up to warmth and bare skin and cosiness.

On the second morning of the Summer Festival, Sheik had woken up when Zelda had dumped a tumbler full of ice cold water on their heads.

Sheik had yelped and immediately burrowed under the sheets; Link had done the same and fallen out of bed. Zelda had started giggling; clamping a hand over her eyes (Link was... not appropriately attired for Zelda to be anywhere near him) and started backing out the door using sense of touch. "It's already quarter to eight," she told them, still chuckling, "We have to leave at half past so we can get breakfast and be there and be ready for costuming by nine."

Yelping again as Link unceremoniously tugged the sheet off the bed to cover himself up (and inadvertently removing Sheik's own protection), Sheik said almost desperately, "Yes, okay, now can you go so we can put clothes on?"

Giggling again, Zelda grinned, "Sure," and closed the door firmly behind her. Sheik could hear her laughing all the way down the hall.

Grinning sheepishly, Link got back up on to the bed, draping the sheet (and his arm) around Sheik's shoulder. "Well, I've had worse wake-up calls," he shrugged, leaning head against Sheik's and dripping icy cold water down the side of his neck. Sheik made a sound of protest and leaned away.

"You're all wet," he told Link.

"So are you," Link retorted, getting up and taking the sheet with him, pausing to brush his fingers over the two gold medals slung over Sheik's bed post - one for his fencing victory, the other for Sheik's gymnastics win. "You heard the girl - should we take a shower?"

Sheik raised a skeptical eyebrow. "What, together?"

Link grinned. "Why not?"

Sheik allowed a slight grin to cross his face. "Why not indeed?" he shrugged, smiling. "Lead the way."

 

The shower had taken longer than he had anticipated - running somewhat late but rather thoroughly clean, they had dried quickly and dressed in whatever came to hand. Zelda had practically shooed them out of the door and in to the car, swinging by Telma's Bar (now open early to take advantage of the Festival-goers) for breakfast and drawing up at the field the Summer Festival was being held in at two minutes to nine.

The skies were ominously dark when they arrived - rain had been forecast for that afternoon, perilously close to the ceremony of the Summer Court, scheduled for midday. Sheik was suddenly grateful for the warmer clothing they had packed.

They were very nearly late in to the room reserved for costuming - several little changing rooms had been set up, each featuring a neatly-labelled hanger, opaque to hide the costumes from prying eyes. Sheik gave his a wary look, and was promptly ushered in to the booth. "There you go, dear," one of the costume dressers told him, pulling the curtain shut, "Put that on - I can help you with the bindings once you're done."

Sheik muttered something under his breath that made the dresser ask, "Ex _cuse_ me?"; he hastily reassured her that it was nothing and unzipped the hanger.

Giving it another glower, he stripped off his usual clothes and reached for the costume - a dark purple pair of pants, looser than he'd like, a lighter purple top, tighter than he'd like across the chest but loose in the sleeves, dark purple sandals, and several rolls of almost-white strips of cloth.

The wraps around his calves and thighs were little problem, as was the white belt with the Sheikah eye embroidered in red at the end. Resigning himself to needing help for the rest, he peered out, then (cautiously) pulled the curtain back and stepped out.

Catching sight of himself in the mirror, he grimaced, then handed the remaining rolls to the dresser, letting her wind them around his upper body and around his forearms. Then he was unceremoniously nudged in to a chair, a can of hairspray in one of the woman's hands and a hairbrush in the other.

After an extremely uncomfortable few minutes where she shoved his bangs this way and that, spraying them to fix it in place (he was fairly certain he was flammable, now), brushing his hair out of the loose ponytail it had been ever since it had got too hot to wear his knitted white cap, and wrapping the same pale purple wraps (only significantly narrower) around a few - to him - randomly selected chunks framing his face, she finally proclaimed his hair done.

Then, without warning, she slipped a silver band over his head, fluffing out his bangs beneath it - at the top was a purple metal disk bearing the symbol of the Sage of Shadow. Sheik stared at the band that looked far too much like a tiara, disquieted.

"Okay," he sighed, resigning himself to it, "Can I go now?"

She pursed her lips, hands on his shoulders, looking at his reflection for a moment. "Well, I suppose your make up will --"

"Make up?!"

"-- Just get smeared if I put it on now. Yes, make up! To prettify yourself on the stage."

Sheik stared a little. "I am not pretty."

"Nonsense," she said briskly, "You're a lovely-looking boy."

"Yeah," grinned Link from behind him, "You are pretty."

Sheik flushed red, glowering at Link's reflection, although it faded a little as he took in his outfit. A forest green tunic, an embroidered gold collar, and a light chain mail shirt beneath that and over the off-white lace-up long-sleeved shirt he wore. The pants were dusty grey, the boots, tooled with elaborate designs, the same warm leather as the belt and gauntlets.

For once, his hair was loose as well, out of its perpetual ponytail - there was still a kink to it, a wave where it had spent most of its life tied up, but the rest was allowed to fall freely, framing his face.

And then Zelda stepped out. Her hair was still undone, loose around her shoulders, but it only added to the general effect - she looked stunning.

A royal blue skirt, fastened at the waist with a gold beaded belt, holding in place the translucent blue fabric that covered it. The bodice was form-fitting and tasteful, embroidery covering parts of it - the same translucent blue fabric made up loops for the sleeves. Light blue slippers covered her feet, gold bracelets on both wrists, and an elegant gold Triforce earring was set in her right ear. On closer observations, he could see an identical one in Link's left ear.

"Now this simply isn't fair," Sheik said softly to Link, hiding his faint smile. "You look like a Hero, Zelda looks like royalty... and I look like an extra in a mummy movie."

"Does that mean I get to unwrap you later?" Link murmured intimately in his ear, sliding one hand over Sheik's hip - Sheik shivered involuntarily, a thread of warmth working its way up his spine.

Then he promptly jumped as the dresser smacked Link's hand. "You can feel up your boyfriend when he's not in costume," she said primly to Link, and Sheik flushed.

Now it was Zelda being ushered in to the chair he had just vacated, a brush taken to her long blonde hair - well, Sheik decided resignedly, they'd be here for a while yet.

As if reading their thoughts, Zelda half-turned to glance back at them. "Go and have fun," she smiled, "You have to be back here by half past eleven, anyway."

"What for?" Link blinked, and Sheik deflated a little.

"Make up," he told Link bluntly.

The Hero blinked again. "Oh," he said sheepishly, then, before the dresser could protest, grabbed Sheik's hand and their bags, and tugged him out the door.

Laughing to himself, Sheik found himself back outside, Link's hand still warm in his and his face slightly flushed. "That woman is going to kill us," he grinned, letting go of Link's hand in favour of grabbing his bag. And ugh, now he was wearing his costume out in public. "Wish it was cool enough to wear something over this," he muttered, "It's embarrassing."

Link grinned. "I think it looks good on you."

Sheik gave him a look. "It does not. Although..." He paused, giving Link a speculative look of his own. For some reason, Link seemed completely at ease in what he was wearing - an old-fashioned tunic, gauntlets, chain mail. Well, perhaps not the chain mail, but for some reason the rest seemed... right.

For a moment, he stopped, disquieted. For just a moment, the gauntlets and boots had been the wrong style, the pants and undershirt not conforming to his body in the right way; the tunic had been the wrong cut. And the surroundings were wrong, out of place - for just a moment, the Festival had faded away and a sea of grass had surrounded them, Death Mountain smoking gently in the background.

And then he blinked, and the moment disappeared.

The agricultural region that linked most of Hyrule's regions? Why had he visualised that, and why had it been so bare of actual agriculture? And why had Link's outfit been so utterly different?

"Sheik?" Link frowned, and Sheik jumped.

"Sorry," he said apologetically, "Just spaced out for a moment. Want to get an ice cream?"

Link was still giving him an uncertain look. "Yeah," he said quietly, "I guess."

 

It had been a pleasant hour or so, wandering around the Festival grounds - more than once, Sheik had had people comment on his costumes. After a little while, Zelda had arrived, her skirts pinned up and the delicate slippers she wore replaced with rather more practical trainers, hair done up in elaborate loops and curls and tied at the back with ribbons.

Suddenly, Sheik was glad for his rather less complicated hairstyle.

If nothing else, he was glad for the fact that they had seen most of the festival the day before. Much of the remaining time was taken up with practising their lines - Sheik only had a few, compared to what Link and Zelda had, but he was endlessly paranoid he would forget them, or say the wrong thing, or simply freeze up when it was his time.

Stage fright. It was not pleasant.

By half past eleven, they were back in the dressing rooms. Sheik had seen no sign of Ganondorf Dragmire, the representative of the Powerful King - he hadn't seen him since yesterday, when he had left shortly after Zelda had fainted. The rehearsal had been rescheduled - without him - for a later part of the day, and Sheik and Zelda (with Malon and Ilia in tow) had headed off to watch Link competing in the fencing tournament. And neither hair nor hide had been seen of him ever since.

Sheik couldn't help but be a little derisive. If Zelda's father, the Prime Minister, had managed to make the time, why couldn't one of his ministers? It smacked of arrogance to force everyone to comply only to his schedule.

Caught up in his irritated thoughts, he simply complied to the instructions and ministrations of the make up artists - lifting his chin so they could smear powder over his face (ostensibly so his skin didn't look bleached under the powerful lights of the stage), parting his lips so they could dab some clear gloss on it, sweeping red powder around his eyes. (Actually, that latter part didn't look so bad - the red eye shadow made his eyes look even brighter.)

Then came the paint - a line of three small black triangles beneath his left eye, a red teardrop beneath his right. Beside him, Link simply had a large gold triangle painted beneath his left eye; Zelda's was on her right.

Finally released, he could watch the rest getting ready. Most of the girls were in dresses of various colours. Malon's was gold, Ilia's green, Ruto's blue - complimentary symbols were also painted on their faces, the same black triangles beneath their left eyes. They also had long veils attached to their silver headbands, Sheik was suddenly very grateful that he didn't have to have one of those, either.

The two that he wasn't familiar with were already made up and waiting in the little area set up for the Summer Court - Sheik took a seat with them, giving them a curious once-over.

The Gerudo woman he had met the day before, Nabooru, gave him a grin, patting her hair (like the other girls, her hair was veiled, unlike the others, it had been bundled together with her own long ponytail and fastened with a gold band with an oversized topaz attached). "Looking good, kid," she told him, "All ready to strut your stuff? Show off that cute little arse?"

Sheik felt his cheeks reddening. "Er," he volunteered.

The Goron man, Darunia, boomed a laugh. "Don't tease the boy," he teased back, readjusting the thick silver bands on his wrists - unlike the others, he had been spared the fate of make up and only bore the black triangles and a red symbol that he recognised vaguely as representing the Goron people. "He seems nervy enough as it is."

Giving him a weak smile of gratitude, he nodded. "Yes, I'm ready," he murmured, not quite adding the unspoken 'I think'.

Link was the next to join him in what had been dubbed the green room - he had already been handed his prop, a replica of the sacred Master Sword, the scabbard hanging from his belt.

Sheik frowned at it. Link caught his look and nodded minutely. "I think," he murmured, just to Sheik, "That it should be on my back. I don't know why, but this feels a bit weird."

"I guess it's all the illustrations in the books," Sheik muttered back - the image in his mind was extremely firm on Link wearing the sword on his back. (Wait - on Link wearing it? On the Hero wearing it, he supposed. Hmm - did this mean he considered Link to be his hero?) "Besides, this seems impractical. Wouldn't it get in the way when the swordsman ran?"

Grimacing, Link nodded, reaching for Sheik's hand to give it a squeeze. "I guess I can adjust," he smiled a little. Sheik squeezed back, reassured.

The next one in was Ruto - on seeing her, Link immediately dropped his hand and shot him an apologetic look. Sheik shrugged it off, giving her a weak smile - he had only seen her a handful of times since The Incident where she had walked in on them, and he was altogether uncomfortable with her now.

She gave them something which he was assumed was intended to be a smile but looked more like a grimace, deliberating for a moment before taking a seat next to Darunia. Sheik winced. For a Zora to sit next to a Goron instead of them... the two groups had a notorious level of tension.

The tense atmosphere dissipated somewhat when the next arrivals showed up - Malon and Ilia, still practically joint at the hip. Ilia was fussing over the green velvet leaves that made him the upper half of her dress, Malon was giggling and readjusting the thin metal belt she wore. Catching Sheik's eye, she grinned sunnily (only appropriate for one dressed in yellow and with sun rays painted around her eye).

"Huh, and I thought our outfits were tricky," she grinned, dropping on to the seat on his other side and nudging his leg with hers. "You look a bit like a mummy."

"I _told_ you!" Sheik immediately told Link indignantly.

Malon giggled again, leaning close so that only he and Link could hear you. "Link will just have to unwrap you later," she grinned.

"That's what I said earlier," Link laughed, patting Sheik's upper thigh - glancing across at Nabooru's smutty smirk, Darunia's encouraging grin, and Ruto's glower, he carefully slid his hand off his leg.

The grin across Malon's face could have matched Nabooru's. "So, have you two done it yet?" she asked casually (earning a soft shriek from Ilia of, "You can't ask _that_!" and a blush from Sheik so fierce he was surprised his make up didn't melt). Her grin softened a little. "I'll take that as a yes."

Across the room, Nabooru laughed loudly. "You'd make a good Gerudo, kid," she grinned at Malon. Malon smiled back, pleased but trying not to show it too much - the Gerudo were notorious for fiery tempers and personalities, an attitude that they could do what they wanted because, really, who would stop them, and minds so filthy they could make even Link blush. Malon, he recalled, was really quite fond of them (and certainly had the hair for it).

Sheik glanced up at the clock. Five minutes until they were due on. All that were left were the representatives of Nayru and Din - Zelda and Ganondorf.

Almost as if on cue, Zelda was the next to arrive - her hair was done, dress unpinned, slippers on, make up set. In her arms, she held a book, its cover almost the precise same green as Link's tunic, an embossed Triforce in gold on it. Sheik leaned over to read the title - it was written in archaic Hylian.

"Your prop?" Link asked, reaching back to touch the blue-painted wooden hilt of his own. Now, Sheik could see that the gold embossing was painted plastic.

"Mm," Zelda nodded, "The Book of Mudora. _In the beginning amidst the darkness of eternal space, from a distant nebula three goddesses were sent upon a formless chaotic waste of a world_ ," she read aloud. " _Din, the goddess of power, forged the mountains and great plains from the fiery bowels of desolation and separated the waters of the sky and between the land. Farore engendered living intelligence upon the land with many creatures of varied kind, male and female they were. Nayru with wisdom brought the order of law and harmony upon nature and set into motion the everlasting cycle of birth, life, death, and afterlife and these three created the unification of cosmic balance. Before these beautiful goddesses travelled onward to create anew their masterwork they bestowed a manifestation of their essence within a mighty artefact called the Triforce, an object that would be sought by many and attained by only one. The Triforce took its place within its heavenly annex within a Sacred Realm where the spirits roam free. And so began the odyssey of Hyrule._ "

She smiled a little sheepishly. "We're essentially taking our roles from this book."

"And so the cycle plays out," a deep voice said from behind her, "The eternal cycles of Hero, Princess, King. I wonder, how long until the Goddesses tire of their games?"

Zelda turned slowly and flinched, taking a step back towards Link. Ganondorf gave her a cool smile, his hand on the hilt of the prop sword he carried.

"We are due onstage in less than a minute," he told them coolly, "I hope you are prepared."

"I'm ready for anything," Link muttered, straightening up as one of the officials entered, peering around Ganondorf's bulk.

"Ah, good," he told them, "You're all ready. You remember the order in which to enter, of course?" he said, and slowly, the assembled participants took their places.

Sheik was directly behind Ruto and in front of Nabooru. He was distinctly uncomfortable.

Flicking a switch, the voice of the master of ceremonies - Rauru - suddenly emanated from the speaker on the wall. He was reading the same passage that Zelda had read earlier (privately, Sheik thought that Zelda had done it better). And then it was time for them to take their places - he glanced back at Link and Zelda, Link gave him a thumbs up, and he followed Ruto on to the stage.

Seemingly the entire population of Hyrule was there, judging by the noise (the lights made it somewhat difficult to actually see them). Silently, he padded over to where he was supposed to sit, a black cross made of tape marking it. There was a small microphone in front of each place, ensuring that they would be able to be heard from their position - kneeling at the front of the stage. (Sheik was amused to see that Darunia looked by far the most out of place, the big Goron kneeling awkwardly.)

On cue, he lifted the purple disk in front of him - in his peripheral vision, he could see the others do the same. As each element was described, the representative repeated the words and held the disk was held a little higher, as Rauru moved on, the disk was set back down, leaning against his knees so it was still visible. A chill ran down Sheik's spine even as he spoke of the influence of the Shadow.

And then it was time for the main attraction. Sheik couldn't turn around, but one of the large screens set up around the place allowed him to at least see as Zelda, then Link, then Ganondorf were introduced, taking their seats on the three thrones set up on the stage. Ganondorf's was in the centre and notably higher, seats corresponding to the Triforce pieces of the Goddesses they represented.

Zelda looked white, he noticed with sudden concern, clammy-looking even under the make up.

The ceremony continued. Zelda got to her feet, holding the book aloft and saying her speech. She sat down, and Link stood, drawing the replica Master Sword from its scabbard and saying _his_ speech.

And then Ganondorf stood slowly, surveyed the crowd almost lazily, and changed the words.

"Your world," he told them, "Is a lie."

On the screens, not daring to move, Sheik saw Rauru's mouth move silently. And for once, he agreed with the master of ceremonies - those weren't the words. What was going on? Sheik saw Zelda and Link swap a concerned look.

"This world," Ganondorf boomed, "Is nothing but an illusion, a fake to keep its prisoners - for that is what you are, what every single one of you here is - fat and complacent. Every happy memory, every grieved moment, they are false. This entire world is a lie, and I am here to bring the truth!"

And he drew his sword, the supposed prop of the Sword of the Sages, glowing like no prop ever should. And then he whirled around, blade flashing through the air, and separated Rauru's head from his shoulders.

Malon screamed. Sheik didn't blame her - there was immediate uproar, the participants scrambling to get off the stage, the crowd scrambling away. Sheik jumped down, landed awkwardly, and helped catch Ruto as she landed less than gracefully. She was crying.

Now, he had to look across at the monitors to see what was actually happening on stage. Ganondorf was simply standing there, watching as Link and Zelda attempted to move by him to get down as well - then, with a sound like something striking a gong, a wall of purple was thrown up the instant they tried to jump.

Both stumbled back, dazed. Ganondorf smiled like a knife and grabbed their hands - Link's left, Zelda's right, lifting them both bodily off the ground. Zelda gave a pained cry; Link grimaced but didn't scream. And Ganondorf took a large step that took him straight to the edge of the stage, allowing everyone, even Sheik, to see him.

"The fairy tales you tell your children," he boomed, "Are true. These children are who the Goddesses have laughingly dictated the Hero and the Princess - an ineffectual, weak boy cannot find the courage to see his destiny; a privileged, spoilt girl who lacks the wisdom to understand the things she sees." And, on the backs of their hands, the image of the Triforce lit up.

Link - the bearer of the Triforce of Courage. Zelda - the bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom. And Ganondorf - the bearer of the Triforce of Power. Childhood tales of the Hero, the Princess, and the King played out in front of his disbelieving eyes.

"These toys," he told Link and Zelda, whisper-soft but audible to every single person in the field that night, "Are too much for you. I command you to return them to me! Only I have the power to wield these - and you will submit to me."

And from his place in the front row where he had been sitting all along, Zelda's father rose to his feet. "You forget," he said, his voice almost casual, "That in all of the fairy tales, the Hero and the Princess defeat the King."

Ganondorf's expression turned icy, and he dropped Link and Zelda unceremoniously back down. Link landed hard on his knees, Zelda crumpling in to a ball - something in Sheik's chest ached, the urge to comfort them, the urge to hurt the one that hurt them rising. Beside Daltus, Impa jumped to her feet, murder in her eyes.

"And you forget as well, O Hyrule King," Ganondorf said, and his voice didn't need to be loud to be heard, "That in the stories, the Princess's father dies."

Impa never even had a chance to react. Ganondorf raised a hand, dark purple light crackling around it before hurling it at the Prime Minister. There was a flash, and when it faded, Daltus Nohansen was dead.

Zelda started screaming, sobbing - behind Ganondorf, Link managed to crawl towards her, pulling her in to his arms - she lashed out then practically collapsed against him.

And Sheik saw red. It was one thing to proclaim himself the King in all the stories - it was quite enough to render his closest friend, the girl who was like a sister to him, an orphan.

So he reached for the pocket knife he had stashed in his shoe earlier, weighing it in his hand before hurling it straight at Ganondorf. The King of Evil stumbled back, the purple barrier dropping for an instant, and Link and Zelda jumped.

"RUN!" Link screamed, and those still foolish enough or shocked enough to remain began to flee. Sheik stumbled over the ground, Zelda practically in his arms, Link and Impa on either side - he could see Malon, tears streaked down her face, off to one side, Darunia, his expression fierce, helping her along. Only Nabooru remained, watching impassively, and Sheik felt a curl of hate towards her for helping this man.

And Ganondorf didn't even move to stop them.

"You can run," he said softly, "And you can hide. But rest assured..." And he raised his fist, purple and gold crackling around it, lancing upwards then forming a barrier around the entire centre of the city. A cage for his new acquisitions. "Rest assured," he said, and his voice echoed around the entirety of the field, "This land belongs to me!"

And the heavens opened up, and it began to rain.


	13. The Burnt-Out Ends of Smoky Days

Link is four, and one of the bigger boys has pushed him over.

He's sitting on the dusty ground, crying - the bigger boy left a while ago, but Link is still sitting there, wailing, nursing his cut knee.

And Saria is there - only five years old herself, but she kneels next to him, and speaks gently to him, and puts a bandaid over his knee.

It has a fairy on it. Saria says that fairies can heal, and that means his knee will be better in no time, and lifts him to his feet to take him to Miss Uli. Miss Uli is nice. Miss Uli dabs something on his knee that makes the sting stop and lets Saria put the new bandaid on.

And then Saria takes him outside and shows him ladybugs on the leaves.

Later, Saria lets him sit in her tree house in the back garden, and tells him that he can go there whenever he wants to. Link sits in the dirt next to the ladder and draws himself - and Saria - fighting dragons.

 

Link is six, and it is activity day at the Home.

Miss Uli has a crafts table, and Link pokes curiously at some beads and at the paper and crayons and coloured pencils and the paint. He scribbles a drawing of himself fighting a monster, decides he doesn't like it, and wanders away.

Mister Rusl has really fun activities. There's a curvy bit of wood with some string, and some long pointy things, and some round things with circles on it. Mister Rusl lifts him up on to his shoulders, and he clings to Mister Rusl's hair while he watches what the bigger kids are doing.

The curvy wood with the string is called a bow, Mister Rusl tells him, and the long pointy things are called arrows, and the round things with the colourful circles on it are called targets. Can you see what they're doing, he asks Link, and Link watches carefully.

And then he tells Mister Rusl, I want to try, and Mister Rusl frowns and tells him that archery is for bigger boys. And Link pouts, and he nearly cries because he really wants to try it and he knows he can do it, and Mister Rusl gives in and gives Link a little bow.

And Link fires the arrow like the bigger kids are doing and it hits in the middle of the target, and he turns to Mister Rusl and asks, was that right?

And Mister Rusl stares at him for a bit, then ruffles his hair and says, that was excellent.

 

Link is seven, and they're all going on a special trip to the city.

It's because of Saria somehow, she has a special thing to do. Link doesn't really know what it is, but the train is full of excited kids anyway, because they're going to the city and there'll be lots of fun things to do there. Saria is reading lots of papers, and she's a real good reader, she reads him and Ilia and the other kids stories all the time.

But now she's too busy reading, so Link plays clapping games with Ilia while everyone else does other stuff on their own. And then Link tries to tell Ilia a story, because Ilia's only six so she's still really little, and he's seven so he's practically all grown up. But he can't tell it as well as Saria, and that's okay, because no one can tell them as well as Saria.

The city is big and loud and crowded, and Mister Rusl shows him the cows and the sheep and the horses in their pens, and Link can't stop looking at the horses. The man with the prettiest horses chuckles and ruffles his hair, and says that his little girl loves the horses too, and he lets Link and Ilia ride one of the little horses around in a pen.

At lunch time, Link has to sit in a chair and watch a stage, and he thinks he sees Saria there and waves at her. She waves back, and the big man next to her frowns and tells her off, and the other big man who looks a bit like a rock on her other side gives her a smile.

Link doesn't remember a lot of it, but he knows that Saria was really cool. But then, Saria's always really cool. Saria is his best friend in the whole world and she'll always be there for him.

 

Link is ten, and Saria is dead.

He's in her tree house, crying. His best friend is gone, and he's all alone - except for Ilia, and she's still little. Right now, Ilia is getting a hug from her dad, and for once, Link wishes he had a dad to give him a hug, too.

He chants stupid, stupid, stupid over and over, although he doesn't know if he means himself for letting her go, or Saria for trying to get to her sacred forest meadow all by herself, or the driver of the car that hit her.

He has photos of her. And in a few years, he'll be older and won't look like the photos any more, and she'll still look the same. An eternal child.

He misses her.

 

Link is twelve, and he's bored and miserable.

So he's sitting - well, if he's honest, he's hiding - up in the tree house, carving at a chunk of wood with his pocket knife. It's not going particularly well, unfortunately - it doesn't really look like a horse, it looks more like a blob with another blob at the top and four spindly sticks sticking out from the bottom.

He's restless and troubled tonight, wishing he could ask Saria for her advice, unable to. Glancing across at the photos he's pinned to the walls, he sighs.

There's a creak from the ladder outside, and Ilia's head pops up over the top. Link, she says softly, and sits down, I was looking for you.

He looks away. I've been right here, he says, and smiles crookedly. I'm always here.

And she asks, what's wrong?

And suddenly it's all spilling out - about how it's been two years since Saria died and it still hurts, and how he hates the new high school he's going to, and how he sometimes wishes he had somewhere to belong, and, oh yes, he thinks he likes boys.

And Ilia just blinks and asks, what's wrong with that?

Link laughs bitterly and tells her about the man he had seen at the bus stop talking about how gross the gays were, and how there were boys at the school that he looked at in ways he didn't look at the girls, and how if gays were disgusting and he was gay, did that mean that he was disgusting?

No, Ilia tells him firmly, you're not disgusting. You're Link. So what if you like boys? That girl a few years older than us likes girls, and she's not disgusting.

And he gives her a weak smile, and says thank you, and squeezes her hand.

 

Link is fifteen, and he's off to a new school.

It was the competition - one of the riding competitions he's been going to since he was old enough to sit on a horse. He actually has friends there - especially a girl called Malon, his age, his sports (show jumping), and just as enthusiastic about the beautiful horse her father's farm had produced that Link had been riding since he was ten.

He and Epona move like a well-oiled machine. He, Malon, and Ilia are the only ones she lets near.

And at one of the competitions, an official from that school in the city comes up to him and Ilia, and offers them both a place there.

So he's at a new school, awkward and unsure in his cargoes and hoodie, standing at the gate and the uniformed students and wondering what to do. Ilia has already run off to find Malon, and Link is left there, alone.

Well, not alone - there are two blondes coming up to him, a girl and a boy. The girl peers at him curiously for a moment, then smiles and offers him her hand and introduces herself as Zelda.

There's an instant of immediate familiarity, one only emphasised when he turns his gaze to the boy next to her. Bright red eyes, as familiar as fire, as rain, as the sunrise. There's surprise in those wide red depths, surprise and mutual recognition.

He knows even before the introductions are made they these two will change his life.

 

Link is seventeen, and it all comes crashing down.

 

He's twelve, and he's trying moves that he's not tall enough to pull off, swinging off a bar and only just making it on to the next platform, a two-storey drop to hard concrete beneath him if he fails.

He will not allow himself to fail. He'll succeed in this - he'll show them. Then they won't tease him any more, and they'll like him, and he won't get beat up any more.

"Yeah, right," Sheik sighs to himself, and slumps down against the worn brick. The grating beneath him isn't at all comfortable, but it's high up and inaccessible, so he likes it.

For nearly half an hour, he sits there, relaxing and flipping through the well-worn sheet music for his new harp. Auntie Impa had been surprisingly willing for him to learn music, showing him how to tease the strings with his fingers, to coax music out of it like teaching someone to talk.

Maybe that was the problem. Boys weren't supposed to play the harp.

He's lost in his own thoughts by the time he returns to life at ground level, wandering down the street with his bag slung over one shoulder. He's caught up in his own head, and that's why he doesn't notice until it's too late and he's already been shoved against the wall.

"Hey -" he starts helplessly, but the breath is knocked out of him by the impact. Sheik is small for his age, and seems to be quite easy to push around.

"Ah, shut up, red-eye," one of them drawls, and Sheik wants to hit him for the slur, quite frankly. "You live with that rich bitch, yeah? So go on, fork over the rupees."

Sheik's fingers tighten around his bag. "Fuck off," he says in unwise defiance.

One of the others punches him in the face.

So he runs, runs and hides and scrambles up an awning and uses it to cross to the next street the hard way, and he's breathing hard by the time he sees the milk bar and bolts inside.

It's mostly empty, but he's still as quiet as a mouse as he creeps across to the lounge area. There's a bunch of pinball machines there - selecting one, he squeezes under it, finding just enough room to sit cross-legged beneath it. The metal sides of the machine come down further, hiding him from casual view - Sheik hugs his legs to his chest and tries to remember how breathing works.

There's a pair of shoes at the side of the machine. Sheik holds his breath - and then there's a skirt, and a pair of knees, then a face - kind-looking, motherly, a few small circular tattoos under her eyes and dreadlocks around her face.

"Now, surely you'd be more comfortable on one of the lounges, hon?" she suggests curiously. Sheik lowers his head to look at her, biting at his split lip.

"I don't want them to find me," he admits softly.

The woman frowns, offering him a hand. "No matter who busted up your pretty face, sugar," she reassures, "There'll be none of that in Telma's Bar and Restaurant. Now why don't you come out there and tell me what's wrong?"

Sheik hesitates, wiping the blood off his chin. "...Okay," he finally sighs, taking the woman's hand and crawling out.

She smiles when she sees him properly, reaching out to dust him off. "I'm Telma, hon," she tells him, "Why don't we have a bit of a talk?"

And they do.

 

He's talking now, fourteen and somehow managing to simultaneously be gangly and short, his hair long enough to pull back in a pony tail and frame his face.

He's glad for that now, because it's at least partially covering the tears in his eyes.

"He came up to us and started... being nice, basically," he hiccups, swiping at his eyes like crying is a personal affront to him, "He wasn't acting like those stupid girls that just hang around her 'cause they're airheads, it was like he was being genuinely nice."

Sheik sniffles again, and Telma wordlessly slides across a napkin. He takes it gratefully, scrubbing his face with it. "So I sort of... got a crush on him."

And now he's staring at his hands - they're knotted together, knuckles white against tanned skin. "And because he was acting so genuinely nice and because no one but Zelda ever was nice to me, I thought he liked me back."

Telma pats his hand comfortingly. "Did you tell him?"

Sheik laughs softly, bitterly. "I did," he says. "He laughed in my face, said he wouldn't want anything to do with a little poof like me, that he only hung around Zelda 'cause her Dad's important, and then he went to tell the entire school."

He smiles flatly. "So there we have it. Now everyone knows. I want to punch him."

She reaches across to pull him in to a hug, he draws away and drops his head on his arms. "And everyone makes fun of me anyway. Now that they have confirmation that I'm a fag, I don't think things are going to get very good."

Sighing softly, Telma rumples up his hair affectionately. "You'll find your own happiness soon, sugar," she tells him sympathetically.

He sighs as well. "I don't think so."

 

He did, or he might, but he's so damn terrified that it's right in front of him and he still can't reach out for it. It's a year later, and his relationship with Link has... evolved, somewhat - there's something new there, some unspoken tension, a hint of mutual attraction.

Just like there had been with Kafei.

"I won't tell him," he mumbles in to his chocolate milkshake, "I don't want to muck anything up."

His hands are knotted up again, fiddling with the gymnast's bandages wrapped around his palms, picking at his nails, anything to avoid focusing on what's causing him distress. Telma is as patient as always, but even she seems to have her limits - she sets one of her hands on both of his, and Sheik looks up.

"The way I see it," she tells him, "You have two options. You can either tell him, and know where things stand, or you can lock it up forever and let it eat away at you for the rest of your life, always wondering if things would be different if you had just asked."

"What if he says no?" he whispers, "What if he gets grossed out or scared and leaves and I never get to talk to him again?"

She's turning away to start preparing for the dinner crowd that will be arriving soon, although much of her attention is still on him. "He already knows you're gay, hon," she points out, "If that didn't scare him off, I doubt this will. And hey," she winks, "You're a pretty boy."

He smiles flatly. "Yeah," he echoes, "A pretty _boy_. Link probably likes girls, anyway."

"But you don't know for sure."

"...No."

She sets the frying pan down, and sets both of her hands on his. "Sugar," she tells him, "I'll give you a word of advice - tell him, or it'll eat you up forever."

Staring at her hands on his, he nods once.

 

The next time he sees Telma, he doesn't even have to talk to her. The brilliant smile on his face says it all.

 

He's talking to her again, eyes set on where Link and Zelda and Zelda's father and his aunt are tucking in to dinner. It's the night before school's returning, it's been a year since he first told Link, and now he has a very important question to ask of Telma.

"How do I tell him?" he asks, and his voice cracks. He doesn't want to tell him, doesn't want confirmation that this is more casual for Link than it is for him. Doesn't want his heart broken. "What if it's too soon?"

She reaches across and squeezes his hand. "You'll know when the time is right, hon."

He nods numbly. In that case, he'll save it for another day.

 

Zelda has always known-seen-felt and always remembered-recalled-recollected and she's a little girl who knows that Mummy isn't going to be around any longer because she can see tomorrow-next-week-next-year and Mummy isn't in it.

And true to her prediction, Zelda's mother dies the week after she turns four.

Zelda doesn't cry and doesn't beg and doesn't bargain - she knows-anticipated-accepted and she knows that this is something that had to happen, and Daltus hugs his daughter and tries not to show that he has a heart and that it is broken.

Zelda can see-predict-know and she can see-predict-know that her Daddy is important, more important than the newspapers say he is, and they use big words like Trea-sur-er but Zelda knows that her Daddy is more than a Trea-sur-er.

And sometimes her dreams get mixed up and sometimes she's a princess and her Daddy is a king and she dresses in pink and runs through the gardens and gets her pretty gowns dirty.

Sometimes, Impa or Sheik finds her gazing at a wall, unresponsive until one touches her face. And then she's someone else for just an instant, her but not-her, and then she's back and she's seen the things she normally sees when she's asleep, a waking dream she's not meant to have. They're the only ones who know, they're the only ones who see her like that.

Her Dad is too busy - now, he's not Treasurer. Now, he's Prime Minister, the election results a complete surprise to anyone but her, because she's seen weeks-months-years ago that he'd win.

And she grins and laughs and feigns surprise, and they believe her.

And she's thirteen, and the dreams come every time she closes her eyes, flickering between two worlds - the familiar-safe-normal-wrong world, the different-unusual-unfamiliar-right world where she is a princess and she has to run and hide and watch the darkness and wait, keep waiting and waiting for someone, and she moves like she's inhabiting someone else's skin, running faster than she can run, jumping further than she can jump.

And she's not alone, and she's not afraid, and the odds against them are huge but they're waiting for something.

And then she dreams of a forest, and a boy in green, and a green and shining stone, and a spark of light that jumps and darts, and Zelda knows who she was waiting for.

She has the dream every week from the age of ten to the age of fifteen, and at fifteen she meets a boy in green from the forest. And he doesn't have a green and shining stone, but he has a green and faded hoodie, and a spark of light reflecting off her wrist watch jumps and darts above him.

And then he's in her dreams as well, dressed in green, a shaft of silver-blue white light in his hand to cut through the darkness.

She knows-him-knew-him-will-know-him, and Sheik knows-him-wants-him-loves-him, and there's something she has to remember about him but she can't and every time she tries memories scatter like fireflies.

And then the darkness is so much that sleep is stolen from her, and all she can see is a pinprick of gold in the distance, but it's fair and out of reach and every time she tries the triangles on her hand lights up and she's afraid.

And the darkness is a man, and he reaches out and crushes the gold speck in one hand.

Zelda awakens from those waking nightmares, knowing the man made of darkness must never get what he seeks, and she despairs because she knows he already has.


	14. Flight

Zelda didn't recall escaping from the stage of the Summer Court. She couldn't remember Impa bundling her in to the car, her new skirt ripping as she tripped over it, or Sheik detouring back to the dressing room to get their bags, to get her wallet with her photos of her family in it, returning drenched to the bone, or Link shouting at him for his recklessness.

The world had gone dark when the Triforce of Wisdom had emblazoned itself on her skin, so intense it made her sick and dizzy, and the only thing she could see through the darkness was the repeated image, again and again, of Ganondorf killing her father.

They had left him there. They had just run, leaving her father and Malon's grandfather - oh, Thrice, Malon had seen her grandfather _decapitated_ in front of her - behind. "Dad," she whispered shakily, and with that one little syllable, the walls broke down.

The next thing she was aware of was of sobbing in to Sheik's damp chest, her hands fisted in his shirt, Link's arms wrapped around her from her other side, her entire body shaking. They had just _left_ him there! Left there to rot with the discarded trash of the day - empty bottles and crumpled burger wrappers and her father's corpse.

Zelda had been too young to remember when her mother had died. She might not have been as close to him as she would have liked, but he was still her father. And now he was gone.

"I'm sorry," Sheik was whispering in her ear, and she remembered with a jolt that he, too, had been old enough to remember his parents' deaths. "It sucks and it's hard and I know how horrible you feel, and I'm sorry."

Link stayed silent, simply running a gentle hand up and down her back. He couldn't remember losing his parents, he had been too young. He couldn't offer empathy - but he could offer sympathy.

She had managed to stop crying by the time they pulled up to somewhere Zelda recognised through the haze of tears - Telma's Bar and Restaurant. "I - I don't think now is a good time for a milkshake," she said weakly, hiccupping a little.

Link wrapped an arm around her middle, Sheik's chilled hand slipped in to hers. "There's that barrier around the middle of the city," Sheik said softly, "We can't get back home yet. Telma's is familiar, and we think some familiarity would help."

"Okay," she whispered, squeezing his hand back before noticing how cold it was. "Why are you so wet?"

Sheik gave her a grim smile. "Getting our things back," he told her, "Don't you remember?"

By now, they were out of the rain, shivering under the awning clutching their bags. It may have been summer, but the rain that fell from the sky was freezing cold. They had all got wet, but Sheik had more than the others.

Frowning as they gazed up at the entrance, Link dug out his old green hoodie from the bottom of his bag, tugging Sheik over to pull it over his head and pressing a quick kiss to his nose when it reappeared above the green.

A faint smile crossed Zelda's face. Even while the world was falling apart, they still had each other. Suddenly, she missed Midna.

Inside, she was nearly stunned by the sheer noise of the crowd inside. It seemed packed to the rafters - people were perched on the seats, on the tables, clustered in knots across the floors. A few enterprising youth had taken up a position on top of the pinball machines in the lounges.

And then a young man barged in, shouting something about monsters in the streets.

There was immediate uproar. A few more rushed in, and then Zelda could see them - lizard-like things, and walking skeletons with large swords, and snarling wolves. She craned her neck - through the windows and the darkness of the storm, she could see black circling shapes from above.

One of the tables was immediately dragged over, forced in front of the door to act as a barricade. Another table and a few more chairs joined it, and Zelda bit down on her lip - if the doors were barred, what about the people who were still outside?

Over the crowd, Zelda could just see Telma give a determined nod, clamber on top of the bar (with some help from Ashei), and hit the saucepan in her hand with the ladle in her other with a tremendous clang.

Half the people crammed in to the bar jumped.

"Alright, then!" Telma boomed, hands on her hips. "We have a crisis and we have a possible solution. The crisis is that some nut bag has taken over our country and no one can get home. The solution would be to get somewhere strong, big enough to hold everyone, and well-protected."

Zelda saw her take a steadying breath. "There's a tunnel leading along the back of the bar," she told them, "With a heavy door in front of each and every shop on the street. I need volunteers to go down the tunnels and let anyone else in. Lead them back here."

"And where will you put us all," a sarcastic voice from the crowd shouted, "The kitchen, perhaps? I bet you could store a few in those ti--"

A hand belonging to someone nearby clamped over his mouth. Telma simply raised an eyebrow. "Honey, you only wish," she drawled back. "There's another passage from the back, too. And _it_ doesn't just lead back down the street. This one leads straight up to Hyrule Castle."

Zelda went still - and so did most of the crowd. The old castle, a landmark of Hyrule from no matter what point of the city you were in. It stood atop the tallest hill in the region, white alabaster with flags waving from its turrets. Once, it had housed the Royal Family, now, it was a museum.

It had always been one of Zelda's favourite places as a child. There had been an inexplicable feeling of home there - with hindsight, that made sense. If she truly was the Princess from the stories, then it _was_ home.

She swallowed hard, sparing a glance at the back of her right hand. A princess - no, _the_ princess, the Bearer of Wisdom, the one whose destiny it was to... be captured by Ganondorf and rescued by Link, if the lion's share of the fairy tales had any bearing on reality.

There were murmurings, now. Impa tugged Link and Sheik closer, pulling the three of them together. "We'll have to go back there, then," she told them, voice low. "The castle is well defended - and it has weaponry stored in its archives."

Beside her, Link looked down at the triangles that hadn't faded from his left hand. "Weapons?" he asked softly, but there was fire in his eyes, a hint of the wolf - the one who would go to any extent to protect his loved ones. And in that moment, Zelda recognised him.

She may not have felt like the Wise Princess, but Link was most assuredly, undoubtedly, completely and utterly the Courageous Hero.

 

They had made it to the castle soon enough - it had taken a fair walk in almost pitch black conditions (fortunately, Telma kept her back room well-stocked, including flash lights - it didn't occur to anyone to ask why a restaurant owner had boxes of flash lights on standby), with only some of Telma's friends guiding the way - she had seen an older man she didn't know, and Link's fencing instructor, Rusl (he had stopped Link when he had seen him pass, given him a fierce hug, and murmured that he had always known Link was special), and, following for much of the way, Telma's fluffy white cat, Louise.

They had arrived in the lowest levels of the castle - it had once been the dungeons, Zelda suspected, given that there still appeared to be metalwork along the ceilings and walls where the bars had once been installed. Perhaps the tunnel they had just taken was once intended to be taken the other way - an escape to the sanctuary of whatever had stood there before Telma's Bar and Restaurant.

They were met by Ashei, the girl who was the student teacher learning to become a master fencer. She had directed them up to the entrance hall, where, to her surprise, she found the student teacher for history, a bespectacled young man named Shad, giving people further instructions. He had a hefty bundle of blankets beside him, handing out one each to everyone who passed by and directing them to the chambers above.

The ball room, the dining hall, the royal quarters, the guest rooms, even the servant quarters had been converted to hold the refugees.

Shad's expression had saddened when he had caught sight of her - as he handed her the blanket, he laid a gentle hand on her arm. "I'm most sorry for your loss," he murmured, and she smiled shakily, not trusting herself to speak. He cleared his throat awkwardly, glancing down at the clipboard in his hands. There was a lot of paper on it, and long lists in neat penmanship. "I'll put you and your friends in the royal quarters - in the Princess's Bedroom. It seems only appropriate," he added with a sheepish chuckle.

Zelda nodded again. Her throat felt tight - she wasn't a princess, she wanted to cry, she was just _Zelda_. No one important. Just a girl.

But the triangles on her hand said otherwise. She bit her lip, twisting the bracelet that hadn't left her wrist since her birthday. "A-alright," she said softly, then asked, "If you see a girl - my age, tall, fair skin, red hair and eyes, goes by the name of Roxanne - can you send her up?"

Shad blinked in surprise. "Of course, my lady," he said, and then paused self-consciously. "I apologise. It just... slipped out."

Zelda smiled blandly. "Don't worry about it."

The royal quarters were two storeys up, covering almost half the floor - the largest set of chambers, the central one, belonged to the King and Queen, and she didn't look at it as she passed. Next to it was the suite belonging to the heir to the throne, though - and the instant Zelda stepped through the door leading from the sitting room (inhabited) to the bedroom, she let out a gasp of recognition.

She knew this room. This was _her_ room.

Walls covered in a velvety damask, dark pink on a paler shade. Paintings - landscapes, mostly, although there were a few still lifes and portraits. One of them was of a girl that could be her twin were it not for the royal finery - the same nose, the same eyes, the same expression. Zelda stared at it for a moment, then climbed up on to the mahogany dresser beneath it and lifted it off the wall, turning it away.

And then she went back to surveying the room. A mahogany wardrobe, the gowns within familiar in a way they shouldn't be. A long white chaise lounge, soft pillows at one end. A large four-poster bed, also mahogany, festooned in finery - silks, velvets, even some soft white furs. Pulling the rope barriers away (the castle was, first and foremost, a museum), Zelda sat down on the end tentatively - then found herself curled up on it, shoulders shaking, face pressed in to one of her pillows to muffle her crying.

It was simply too much. The excitement of the Festival, the terror of Ganondorf's take over. Her father's death. The Triforce awakening within her - the princess in the fairy tales, she wasn't a fairy tale, she was _her_. Escaping to Telma's Bar. The long walk up to the castle.

And now, her own room, her own belongings, her own bed.

She had only seen them once, and that was only from behind a velvet rope with the rest of the tour group. But this was undoubtedly her room, and that, even more than the glowing Triforce on the back of her hand, convinced her that she was the Wise Princess.

There was a dip on either side as Sheik and Link sat down, neither speaking, just comforting with their presence. Impa, too, stood nearby, reaching out to stroke her hair.

She cried for what felt like a long time - for her father, for herself, for Hyrule. She wanted to go home - to change back everything the way it should have been. Not... this. Not this creeping wrongness.

By the time she was wiping her eyes and cheeks, the door opened again. Zelda raised her head immediately, and a smile immediately spread across her face - Midna took one look at her and crossed the floor in quick strides, her feet sinking soundlessly in to the thick white carpet.

"I won't ask if you are alright," she murmured against Zelda's ear, "Because I'm not blind. But... I am here for you now."

Midna understood, Zelda acknowledged. She had also lost her father and her home in one swift movement.

"Thank you," Zelda murmured. She was suddenly exhausted - even if her watch told her it was only just past six, the darkness from the clouds and rain outside and her own tiredness made it seem significantly later. "Stay with me?"

"Always," Sheik murmured from behind her, and Link added his ascent.

"We won't leave you," Midna told her, squeezing her hands.

They fell asleep in a huddle, her head on Midna's shoulder, her hand in Sheik's, Link's arm curled around him, supporting each other through the night.

 

The next time Zelda awoke, it was early morning - only a little past five, if her watch and internal sense of time was correct. Had she really slept for eleven hours? She felt like she had barely closed her eyes before waking again, her body still heavy with fatigue.

Oh, no - that heavy feeling was Midna using her as a pillow. That explained it.

Yawning, Zelda turned to scope the room - quite aside from Midna curled up almost on top of her, Link and Sheik had ended up on their own, Link's bigger body wrapped securely around Sheik's smaller one. She smiled involuntarily - it was hopelessly cute, mostly akin to how she had seen them on the morning of the Festival albeit with more clothing.

Then, she faltered. Had that only been a day ago? It felt like a lifetime ago, like it had been some other Zelda that had tipped icy water over their heads to try and make them hurry up.

Even as she watched, Sheik's eyelids flickered, sleepy red peeking out before he blinked and opened his eyes properly. "Morning," he whispered, shifting an arm to glance at his watch. "Mmph - still early?"

Zelda nodded, one hand absently petting Midna's hair as she leaned a little closer. "Yes, it's only just past five," she murmured, and her stomach growled (but softly, as if in consideration for the hour). "We missed dinner... and lunch," she realised, recalling that the last meal they had eaten had been the hurried breakfast at Telma's.

Sheik nodded, stifling a yawn. "Wonder what we'll have?" he said curiously, reaching up to rub his eyes - the movement jostled Link, who made a grumbling sound, tugged Sheik closer, then opened his eyes and blinked.

"Is it morning yet?" he asked curiously.

"Only by the literal interpretation of ‘morning', yes," Sheik replied with a small smile.

Link yawned wide enough that Zelda could see his tonsils, if it was light enough. "Okay," he murmured, "I'm hungry."

Zelda smiled a bit more. "We all are."

They stayed there for a little while longer, calm and relaxed and quiet. At some point, Link closed his eyes again and curled up against Sheik's back; within a few minutes he was breathing softly and slowly again. Sheik stroked the hand wrapped around his middle, the expression on his face more peaceful than she had ever seen.

Catching her gaze, he faltered, and then reached out to squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry about your Dad," he said sincerely, "But we're still okay. We still have each other."

There was a lump in her throat again. "We are," she murmured. She had Sheik, and Link, and Midna. She would bury her grief deep down, and she would be okay.

By the time the sun was attempting to penetrate the heavy rain clouds, all four were awake. Impa, who had been sleeping on the chaise lounge nearby, had awoken as well, cleaning up in the attached ensuite and emerging looking quite refreshed. Zelda, intrigued, had ducked in when she was done and had promptly proceeded to spend the next fifteen minutes running her hands over the fixtures. Suddenly, royalty seemed rather welcome.

They had finished getting ready, had headed downstairs to breakfast on the few rations Telma had managed to make, had noted with concern that the sky was still pitch black. It was a little after seven when Impa pulled them aside and told them they had something to see.

She had led the four of them (because Midna did not want to be left behind) in to the deepest parts of the castle - deeper even than the dungeons they had arrived in the night before, the chambers so dark that the flash light Impa held seemed like a miniature sun in her hands. Zelda was sure that her ears popped at least once; she did not let go of Sheik and Midna's hands.

Finally, they stopped in front of an old metal door, covered in inlaid finery and symbols - most, to her mild shock, were recognisable. There was the Sheikah eye, and the three curves of the Zora people, and the claw of the Gorons. Even the swirls that represented the Kokiri region were there - and, spreading its wings over all of them, the stylised falcon that was emblazoned across Hyrule's national flag... and the symbol of the Triforce. Zelda curled her hand in her skirts.

For a moment, Impa paused in front of the door, running her hands over it. She was muttering to herself, seemingly deeply concerned. Frowning, Zelda stepped up behind her, one hand lightly resting against the door - and to her profound shock, the Triforce at its top glowed brightly enough to see everyone's faces by it, and the door swung open with an audible creak.

Zelda glanced back at them, surprised, then took a step inside.

The lights flooded on. No where could she see a light bulb or a fire place or even a candle, though - it seemed to come from everywhere, emanating from the walls, the floor, the ceiling.

The others had followed her in - Link eagerly, Sheik, Impa, and Midna somewhat more reluctantly. Glancing back, she saw Impa's hand firmly on both of their shoulders, murmuring something - something she couldn't quite catch about shadows and light and it would only last a little while.

But Zelda's attention was caught by the room itself. It had the feel of a sacred chamber, a long, stretched-out hall with yet another Triforce set in to a stone platform almost at her feet. Thick red carpet stretched up to an altar, three distinct points of light (green, red, and blue) floating above them.

And beyond that was a door.

"This," Impa said, her voice hushed, "Is the Temple of Time. Not the one you know," she added hastily, seeing Zelda was about to interrupt with the information that the Temple of Time was a different building entirely and at least three blocks away, "But the Temple of Time as known to the Hero of Time."

Zelda quietened immediately.

"It was near the castle, then," she said softly, "We've walked a good distance and turned around in the process - this is where a boy awakened as the Hero of Time to fulfil his destiny."

She glanced across to Link, giving him a pointed look. Link ignored her, the tips of his ears pink, simply gazing at the altar and the door beyond it.

Seeing his look, Impa sighed, crossing over to where a neat row of chests were set against one wall. Metal nameplates in archaic Hylian decorated each one - Impa, apparently, had no trouble reading them.

"I am the Sage of Shadow," she told Zelda when she asked, "I recall everything. Two of our number, Saria and Rauru, are already gone. Myself, Darunia, Ruto, and Ganondorf's deputy Nabooru remain."

"Did you know," Sheik finally asked softly, "Before the Festival, what Ga-- what _he_ would do?"

She shook her head. "That knowledge was only awoken in me when the Triforce was awoken in Zelda and Link. Come here."

Sheik nodded, and carefully stepped up to her. She gestured to one of the chests. "That is yours." And, to Zelda's mild surprise, she then beckoned Link over to a chest bearing his name, and Zelda to one bearing hers.

She didn't open hers straight away, glancing across at her friends first. Sheik was simply staring at his - a form-fitting blue outfit, a multitude of bandages - not pristine and lilac like his costume, but tattered and white, ripped in some places - and a white tabard and cowl, the Eye of Truth emblazoned on the front. And, beneath it - a long knife, hilt also wrapped in bandages, at least two dozen long, sharp throwing needles, and a golden lyre.

Sheik lifted the lyre out of the chest, cradling it to him like it was an old friend. "This is mine," he murmured.

Link was staring at his chest, as well - Zelda could see a flash of green and white, the warm hint of brown leather. He had weapons, mostly - a bow and quiver, a shield like the ones Hylian soldiers used in the past, a device Zelda recalled seeing in a book called a hookshot, and the item he held now - a scabbard attached to a leather belt.

Finally, Zelda opened her own chest, not entirely surprised to see a princess's gown, delicate Triforce earrings and a crown resting on top. "It's really real," she said softly, "Isn't it? I'm the Princess in the stories?"

"It is," Impa said gently, then dipped her hand inside and lifted something out. "Hold out your hands."

Zelda did so obediently, and suddenly found herself holding a cool blue instrument, light for its size, the light glinting off the - another one? - Triforce just below its mouthpiece. "The Ocarina of Time," she murmured, unknowing where the name had come from, just that it was terribly important.

Impa nodded solemnly.

Beside her, Sheik was still clinging to his lyre, the blade of the knife wrapped in bandages, the throwing needles shoved through the loop of his jeans, a rolled-up bundle of cloth that she assumed was the tabard under one arm. Link, for his part, had taken the bow and quiver, and the scabbard and shield - it looked wrong, somehow, the scabbard empty on his back.

Zelda closed her chest again, not wanting to look at her finery. "What do I do?" she asked Impa, the ocarina in her hands.

"Open the door," Impa whispered, and hummed a fragment of a song. Zelda nodded, understanding - or remembering - and crossing slowly to stand before the altar.

Then she lifted the ocarina to her lips, and began to play.

The song was soft, and mournful, and somehow perfectly suited to the temple. For a moment, nothing happened - and then the door in front of her glowed white and began to fade. And Zelda looked up to see a second chamber, and a wide platform, and a sword resting in its pedestal.

Link visibly recoiled. Sheik caught his hand. Midna dropped her hand to his shoulder.

"Go on," she murmured.

As if in a trance, Link stepped forward, the first in to the chamber. Zelda glanced back uncertainly, then followed him.

Almost unthinkingly, they moved to flank Link as he walked to the platform - Zelda behind him, Sheik and Midna to the sides, Impa behind Zelda. All four watched as Link stepped up to the pedestal, which, Zelda could see now, was marked with the Triforce.

Breathing slowly and evenly, eyes half closed, Link reached out and closed his hand around the hilt of the Master Sword.

Zelda had to shield her eyes then, or be blinded. Bright white light poured from the gap in the pedestal, bathing Link's face with an unnatural glow. His expression steady and measured, he took another breath, then pulled the sword from the stone.

The glow faded. Zelda changed a look, and her breath caught in her throat. Dressed in green, the sacred Master Sword, the Blade of Evil's Bane, in his hand, Link had awoken as the Hero of Time.


	15. The Hero of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, character death

He was the Hero of Time. He knew it to his very core - the blade in his hand was _his_ , to be wielded only by the chosen one. And that chosen one was...

Link was almost completely silent as they returned back up to the castle, gripping Sheik's hand like a lifeline. He needed him near, needed his presence to ground him - to everyone else, he was the Hero, but to Sheik, he was just Link.

There was light visible, now - a pale glow at the end of the darkness. Link emerged into the dim light, blinking, glancing back at his friends and Impa.

"Come," Impa said briskly, "There's a meeting in the war room - they're waiting for you, Link."

He swallowed, nodding and silently following her up to what he assumed was the war room - a vast stone chamber with an immense table in the middle, ringed with chairs, walls covered in items of war - swords, shields, spears. Link noticed a shield identical to the one he carried now.

"So it really is true," someone murmured - glancing across, Link saw Rusl there. "Link really is the Hero of Time?"

"He is," Impa nodded soberly, and ushered the four of them to chairs. Midna slouched down a little, trying to make herself inconspicuous - Link gave her a sympathetic smile. "What's the situation with the barrier?"

"Down," one of the others confirmed, "But the... monsters..." He stumbled over the word. Monsters were supposed to be in fairy tales, weren't they? "The monsters make it too difficult to leave. And the rain - some of the lower districts have flooding."

He looked up, fixing Link with a stare. "What we need," he said softly, firmly, "Is someone to escort people out of the city. The city residents should probably stay here, and anyone else who wants to would be welcome to, but there are many from Zorai and Goro who wish to return."

Link didn't respond, simply standing and moving to one of the windows. Hands rested against the cool glass, he peered through the rain at the streets. "Lizalfos," he said, "And dinolfos. The skeletons are stalfos, the wolves are wolfos. Ganondorf never was creative in naming his minions. The black birds are guays - they'll swoop anyone they see."

There was a brief, awkward silence. "How do you know?" someone asked nervously.

"I remember," Link said flatly. Someone had told him, hadn't he? A friendly voice guiding him through the temples, pointing out weaknesses and warning him of approaching danger... "They're not difficult to beat; there are just a lot of them." He took a breath, and then said, "I'll escort anyone who wants to leave."

He didn't turn away from the window. He didn't want to see the look on Sheik's face.

The meeting finished soon after. Link would accompany anyone who wanted it to three locations - Kakariko City, the Goro region, and finally Zorai. Anyone wanting to go to Kokiri, the Lake region, or Gerudo Valley would have to wait until the next trip - there were only so many that could go at once.

They would leave at midday, making the most of the bright sun and the monsters' aversion to it. Link was subdued, his hand joined with Sheik's, as the meeting wrapped and people began to leave - they had barely made it out the door before a hand descended on Link's shoulder.

"Link," the general said almost reverently - a general of the Hyrulean Army paying respect to a schoolboy with an oversized knife. "We really should go over the details of the escort mission. We only have a few hours, we should spend every last minute planning."

Link gazed back at him impassively, then at his and Sheik's hands, then said, "No."

A muscle in the general's cheek visibly twitched. "You can spend time with your boyfriend once you're back," he said impatiently, "This is more important."

"No, let them go," Zelda said softly from behind them. The general jerked, glancing across at her then back at Link and Sheik. "They need time together."

Sheik's expression was curious - a mix of surprise and gratitude, and a rather disconcerting flash of fear. He gave Zelda a pointed look, and she gave him one in return - Link watched them both and puzzled at it.

But still, he was grateful nonetheless. "Thank you," he murmured to Zelda, and she smiled back.

"Go on," she said softly, "You're running out of time."

Link nodded, and he and Sheik left. If they were running out of time, then they'd make the most of what they had.

 

They were up in one of the servant's quarters now, having not felt right about doing it in Zelda's room. The blankets were coarser than the ones down there, and there was dust in the hard-to-reach places, but there was faint morning light filtering in through the clouds and through the old window, and the bed was soft and comfortable.

Link raised a hand to trace the line of Sheik's cheekbone, admiring the way the light accentuated pale eyelashes and red eyes. His eyelids flickered at the touch before closing as he leaned over to kiss Link again, his own hands tracing lightly over his skin - Link fought back the urge to chuckle as they ran over a particularly ticklish spot on his ribs, but Sheik proved to be a potent distraction from any ticklishness.

"Don't do anything reckless," he murmured as he broke the kiss, then ducking his head to press another one to his throat. "I know you're the Hero, but..." Sheik faltered. "But come back to me. Please."

Link nodded, throat tight. "Always," he said hoarsely - the idea of being away from Sheik hurt more than he had ever thought it would. "I'll come back, I promise."

Sheik nodded as well, closing his eyes. "I," he said hesitantly, "Was going to tell you... I realised it months ago, I was just... afraid to say it. But..." He bit down on his lip.

"What were you going to say?" Link whispered hoarsely.

Opening his eyes again, red meeting blue, Sheik drew an unsteady breath and said, "I love you."

The immediate reaction was the heat and pressure of hot tears welling in Link's eyes, almost unbearable pressure in his chest. Unable to speak, he pulled Sheik close and kissed him until he was breathless, not wanting to let go for anything. Then he took a steadying breath, ran over the words in his mind, and whispered back, "Ana sadir amah."

The stunned delight on Sheik's face made the embarrassment of asking Impa worth it. "You... learnt the Sheikah words for it?" he asked gently, punctuating it with another kiss.

Link nodded a little, smiling faintly sheepishly. "I - yeah," he grinned, "I asked Impa. It was sort of terrifying."

Sheik chuckled. "I imagine so." And then his expression sobered quickly. "Be careful out there," he murmured, "I know all those people are relying on you, but... well, I need you too," he sighed.

He gave him another soft kiss, then murmured almost uncertainly, "I've only just realised that I want to spend my life with you. Don't lose yours before we can do that." And then he blushed, looking away.

Link was smiling, though. "I'll come back to you," he said, and kissed him again. "I promise."

 

By midday, he was ready to leave. Heading back through the tunnel to Telma's Bar and emerging out into the rain, Link glanced back at the crowd behind him, took a breath, drew the Master Sword, and began to take down the prowling monsters. The fleeing refugees were packed on to a convoy of buses that a few volunteers had procured earlier, what members of the Hyrulean Army they could spare on motorcycles meant to flank them - the soldiers had rifles, but Link only needed his sword, moving it like an extension of his arm.

Forget fencing - this was what felt natural. This was what felt _right_.

Those same volunteers had also brought something else along with them - or, rather, someone else. With a fierce grin, Link leaped on to Epona's back, shoving his army boots through the stirrups, grabbing the reins with one hand (he still had the sword in his left hand).

"This way!" he called, and urged Epona onwards.

 

 _"Link? It's Zelda. It's been about six hours. How are things going? We're... well, everyone's on edge. It isn't fun. Have you reached Kakariko yet?"_ Beep.

 

 _"Hi, it's me. We've just left Kakariko. It's weird, we can't see any of the rain from the city borders, and it's really light up here. We're going into the mountains, now. I'll call you once we're done."_ Beep.

 

 _"Link? You said you were going to call back - it's past ten. Where are you?"_ Beep.

 

 _"Link, call us back. Something's just happened."_ Beep.

 

 _"Link, where_ are _you? Sheik's just about worn out the carpet from pacing. The... Parliament House is just... gone. There's another castle there. Link, it's one in the morning, what's going on?"_ Beep.

 

 _"Link, the power is gone. What's going on?"_ Beep.

 

 _"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I couldn't do anything. I... it's my fault. I'm sorry. We... there were too many. ...I'm on my way back, now. I'll see you soon."_ Beep.

 

Link had barely set foot back in to the castle before both Sheik and Zelda practically flung themselves at him. Of course, he wasn't complaining - dishevelled, dirty, and dusty, he was clinging back just as hard, shaking and trying not to.

"What happened?" Zelda whispered, drawing back as she wiped her eyes. "We kept calling and calling - and that last message... what happened?"

There were others filtering up the stairs, now - a few shocked soldiers, although, Zelda noted, less than had set out. They mostly ignored the little group standing off to one side, although more than one nodded in acknowledgement of Link. One of the last stepped up, placed his hand on Link's shoulder, and murmured, "It wasn't your fault, son," before following his comrades.

Link's shoulders slumped. "It was," he whispered, sinking back down against the stone. Sheik and Zelda followed him down, one on either side, one of his hands in Zelda's and the other wrapped firmly around Sheik's middle. "We were ambushed when we reached Goron City," he said tonelessly, "There was a fight - Ganondorf's mercenaries. They had locked the population inside the mines. I got them out and drove them back, but..."

He shook his head. "Darunia is dead. So are a lot of others." He had seen him die - Darunia had died defending him, saying that the Hero of Time was more important than he was. "He died saving me."

Zelda gave a soft cry, hugging him closer. But he stopped her - there was more, still more unpleasantness to go. "We fought them back," he continued, "And started for Zorai - behind the Kakariko pass, we didn't want to go back through the fields. When we got there, it was frozen."

"Hyrule Hydroelectric," Zelda whispered, "That's why the power went off. How?"

Link smiled grimly. "Magic. Most of the Zora had been rounded up, and..." His voice shook. "And you know that Ruto's father is their representative, and..." He reached up, swiping tears away. "It's one thing when a guy in his fifties you don't know dies," he whispered, "It's different when it's a classmate."

"...Ruto?" Zelda gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

"We're being targeted," chimed in a new voice - Impa, gazing down sadly at the three. "The Sages are being picked off, one by one. The only ones remaining are myself and that deputy of his."

Link gazed up at her, almost unseeingly.

"We're evacuating," she said softly, "The entire city. We'll make for Kakariko - it has the facilities and it's away from that... other castle."

He nodded blankly - he had seen it in what passed for dawn light now, a castle of black stone, suspended above a pit of lava. So stereotypically fantasy villain that it made him want to laugh a little, if it wasn't for the fact that it was his job to go there. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he turned to Sheik, reaching out to cup his face, turning to Zelda and doing the same. "Be careful," he said softly, "Look out for each other, and Midna. Stay safe - don't do anything reckless."

"No," Zelda said immediately, catching his wrist. "No, you're coming with us. Aren't you?" She looked desperate. Sheik simply looked grieved.

Link shook his head. "I'm the Hero," he said with a weak smile, "It's my job. I have to go stop him."

She looked away, biting her lip. But Sheik nodded slowly, pulling Link into an embrace. "We don't leave for a few hours," he murmured, "You need sleep, first."

Sleep sounded nice. Link nodded dumbly, getting to his feet. "Lead the way," he murmured.

 

They had left without him. That was the first thing Link realised when he awoke in Zelda's bed - alone.

It was cold without them there, his arms still outstretched to wrap around someone who wasn't there. Instead, there was a note there - no, four of them, all in different scripts.

Swallowing roughly, he started to read.

Impa's note was short, to the point. It simply pointed out the chest holding his tunic and weapons, now positioned at the end of his bed, and apologised for leaving early. Midna's was short as well - she thanked him for his friendship over the past few months, had told him she may well never see him again if she was sent back to Twila, but being able to tease him had made it all worth it.

Zelda's note... she had apologised as well, saying that she and Sheik had tried to wake him but he had been too exhausted (he glanced up at the clock - nearly twelve hours had passed since he had fallen asleep. They would have been in Kakariko for hours now. Had he really slept that long?) and that she would always value his friendship over the years. He scanned the rest, vision starting to blur, and set it down.

And then there was just one - the note written by Sheik.

_I love you. Believe me, I'm beating myself up for not telling you earlier, but... I love you. I think I've loved you since the moment we met. No matter what happens to us, no matter what happens in that castle, know that. The world might have changed - my feelings for you have not._

There was a smudge, like a droplet of water had landed on the paper and been brushed away. It was long dry, now - Link touched the tips of his fingers to it, gently.

_Come home safe to me. I don't know what I'll do if something happened to you._

_Ana sadir amah._

_Love, Sheik._

Drawing in a shaking breath, Link tucked the note in to his pocket and sat up more properly. The Master Sword, cleaned and sheathed, laid on top of the chest at the foot of the bed - picking it up by the strap, he buckled it across his chest so that it rested easily between his shoulder blades. The shield went next, the hookshot dangling off his belt, the quiver diagonal across the sword belt and the bow in hand.

He didn't take any more weapons, didn't change out of his cargoes and hoodie in favour of the green tunic that was apparently his. He had everything he needed, now - the Master Sword, the Triforce, Sheik's note. Steeling himself, he walked out of the room.

The castle was deserted, now. Following the passage back to Telma's Bar, he gazed around at it - lights off, empty of people, chairs and tables in disarray. Glancing back at it for just a moment, he took another breath and stepped out the door.

Like the castle, the streets were similarly deserted. Not even monsters remained, he noted with some consternation - there was no one to stop him as he walked through the rain to Ganondorf's castle. Lava bubbling and popping beneath his feet, Link stopped at the edge of the pit, gazing up at it.

And then he drew out the hookshot, aimed it, and fired.

The recoil was tremendous, but he still landed on his feet in front of the door. It was many times larger than him, heavy wood with metal rivets, taking all of his strength just to push it open. But he managed it, stepping inside, noting with distant surprise that the simple act of entering had changed his cargoes and hoodie to the tunic and boots and hat that were supposedly his, waiting for his eyes to adjust, and...

Oh. That was where all the monsters had gone.

 

Two hours had passed by the time Link made it up to the tower. A set of endless stairs carried him up, the sound of his feet soundless against the plush carpet, the sound of a distant organ growing louder and louder.

He wouldn't have taken Ganondorf for a musician, but that was what he saw as he pushed the door open, sword in hand - Ganondorf, his back to him, playing a melancholy tune on a pipe organ that scraped the ceiling. "Have you come to return my Triforce piece?" he asked lightly, not even turning around to look at him.

"No," Link said, fighting to keep his voice steady, "I've come to stop you."

And Ganondorf laughed. "My boy," he boomed, "You don't even know what I want."

Link swallowed hard. "You want to take over," he said uncertainly, "You..."

He laughed again, long and loud and crazed. "Do you know what this place is, boy?" he said, almost sounding delighted, "It's a cage. This place is a trap, drawing in poor unfortunate souls from every moment in history. It's an illusion, nothing more. Why would I want to rule an illusion?"

He was hesitating now, the hand clutching the Master Sword white-knuckled and the sword lowering. "Liar," he still snarled, "I was born here. People way older than me were born here. How long has this illusion lasted?"

"Your memories are false," Ganondorf said lightly, "Think back. Did they ever seem truly real? Did they not seem... wrong? You wield the Master Sword, a blade out of the fairy tales. The Princess sees the truth but lacks the wisdom to comprehend what they mean." He set forward, chin propped up on one fist. "I intend to correct this."

"How?" Link whispered.

Ganondorf gave a casual shrug. "By killing you and the princess and taking your pieces of the Triforce."

Link snarled, raised the Master Sword, and charged at him.

 

The battle hadn't been raging for very long before coming to a halt. Link leaped back, breathing hard, bleeding from several wounds - not enough to kill, but possibly enough to slow him down. There was an ache in his chest where a bolt of magic had struck him, bruises developing along his side where Ganondorf had lifted him off his feet and hurled him back down to the stone, there was blood trickling in to one eye.

But that was irrelevant, now. Because Ganondorf had lowered his sword, and Link was so completely and utterly stunned that he couldn't even take the opportunity to strike.

Because Ganondorf's deputy, Nabooru, had just arrived, shoving her two prisoners along in front of her.

Sheik and Zelda, bloodied, battered, and helpless.

Horror made him turn to Ganondorf and scream, "Let them go!", sword shaking in his hand. "Your fight is with me, not them!"

A slow, sadistic smile crept across Ganondorf's face. "Well, if they're unnecessary," he said to Nabooru, as lightly as if asking her how her day had been, "Kill the Sheikah."

"NO!"

Ganondorf glanced across at him, driving the tip of the sword in to the stone and using the hilt as an arm rest. "No?" he smirked, "Would you rather I killed the Princess?"

"You won't touch either of them," Link snarled, taking quick steps to reach them and stopping only when Nabooru drew out her scimitar, holding the blade millimetres from Zelda's throat. Zelda whimpered, terrified - Link could see her trying to reach for Sheik's hand despite the bonds around their wrists.

And then Nabooru did something unexpected - she lowered the blade, eyes fixed on Ganondorf. "Is this really necessary?" she drawled, "They're just a couple of kids."

Ganondorf fixed her with a stare. "Are you defying my orders?"

She stared back, tossing her mane of red hair back. "I just don't think pushing a couple of kids around is necessary. The Princess, yeah," she shrugged, "But the Sheikah is unimportant. You don't need to off him just to make yourself feel big."

"Excuse me?" Link heard Sheik mutter, and a quick, strained smile appeared on Link's face.

Ganondorf was silent, but even from metres away, Link could feel the anger rising off him. "Insubordination," he told her almost lightly, "Will not be tolerated." And another of those purple balls of magic rose around his hand, Sheik and Zelda flung themselves to the sides, there was a flash, and Nabooru was gone. "The last of the Sages," he said with a cold smile, "The other was that irritating woman in Kakariko - she died fighting. She was your aunt, wasn't she, boy?"

Impa was dead? Link drew in a sharp breath, staring at the obvious grief on Sheik's face.

"I'll avenge her," Sheik told him grimly, "Just you wait."

And Ganondorf laughed again. "No," he said lightly, "You won't." And more of those purple bands of magic lashed out to wrap around them both.

Zelda gave a soft shriek, struggling fiercely. Sheik kicked at it, tried to break free, utterly unable to as Ganondorf hauled them back towards him. "What will it be, Hero?" he said, turning to Link. "I feel like - as Nabooru so crudely put - making myself feel big. Which life shall I snuff out first? The Princess's -" And he grabbed her chin, yanking her around to face Link, giving him a clear look at the tears in her eyes, "Or your Sheikah whore's?"

Link stared, stricken. "Don't touch them," he whispered, shaking.

Ganondorf's smile faded. "Choose who you wish to save, Hero," he told him bluntly, "The girl who is like a sister to you, or your lover."

Link shook his head fiercely and picked up the sword that had clattered out of his hand when they had been brought in. "Step away from them, Ganondorf," he snarled.

"Wrong answer."

And a wave of purple magic rushed towards him, binding him the same way Sheik and Zelda were bound, hurling him back. Sheik, too, was been forced away, the bands around Zelda fading, even as Ganondorf grabbed his hand around Zelda's and raised it above her head.

"Link--!" she cried out, struggling, tears welling in her eyes. She was terrified and helpless and Link couldn't do a thing, caught as he was by Ganondorf's bonds. But Ganondorf only lifted her higher, forcing her to make eye contact - she stared at him for a long, long while, and then the fight slipped out of her.

Link was only dimly aware of Sheik screaming in denial and fury, and of Ganondorf's triumphant chuckling - all he could do was stare at the gold building up beneath Ganondorf's hand, a second Triforce piece on the back starting to light up, and Zelda going paler and paler.

By the time he lowered her to the carpet, she had gone still.

Stepping away, he released the bonds holding Link and Sheik back. Sheik didn't even hesitate, sprinting not to Ganondorf but to Zelda, pressing his ear to her chest, holding a hand above her mouth, checking for a pulse. Link followed slowly, dropping to his knees next to her just as Sheik went limp.

"She," he whispered, and practically collapsed against Link, burying his face against Link's chest. "Sh-she's gone," he stuttered, tears beginning to run down his cheeks.

And all Link could do was cling to him, trying to hide his own tears. "I'll make him pay," he whispered, a fierce vow, "I promise."

And he raised his sword, and lunged at Ganondorf again.

The battle was not going well. Link was dazed, bruised and bleeding, distracted by trying to keep Ganondorf away from where Sheik had laid Zelda out at the furthest edge of the chamber. Now, he sat beside her, expression vacant, stroking her hair - to Link, Zelda had been one of his best friends, but to Sheik, she was family.

And he would fight for them. For Zelda's memory, for Sheik's life, for the lives of everyone else depending on him. He wouldn't give up now - he couldn't.

But he hurt. He ached in every limb, every muscle, the pain clouding his mind and slowing his reactions. He had to keep fighting, but it hurt so much now.

And now he found himself knocked backwards, raising a hand to the wound on his forehead where the pommel of Ganondorf's sword had knocked him to his knees. For a moment, he curled his fingers in to the carpet, then slowly began to get to his feet.

And he looked up, and saw the blade of Ganondorf's sword come hurtling towards his head.

And then he was sprawled on his back, knocked away from the blade inches from his face, the blade that would have otherwise skewered him, coated in blood that wasn't his.

And then he followed the blade up, and saw it protruding through the image of a red eye weeping blood, the real thing now soaking the fabric, and long tanned fingers rising up to touch it, and wide, red eyes set in a face paler than it should have been.

"No," he whispered as Ganondorf drew his sword sharply out of Sheik's chest, lunging forward to catch him as he fell. "NO!"

There were tears in his eyes, now, the sobbing he had held back at Zelda's death unable to be denied at this, pulling Sheik in to his arms as if he could prevent the same happening to him. "No, please... Sheik, _no_ , not again, please," he whimpered, "Why...?"

Sheik struggled to speak, bright red blood bubbling past his lips. Bright red blood, Link's brain supplied dully, blood sourced from the lungs. The blade had gone right through him, and now he was drowning in his own blood. "It... was worth it," he managed to say, fingers curling in to Link's tunic, "To s... to save you."

"But..." Link started, words breaking off with a sob. He was crying now, truly crying, tears pouring down his cheeks. "No, you - but you'll..."

But you'll die, he continued silently, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"I know," Sheik said softly, then cried out as a spasm of pain made his entire body curl in on itself. Link immediately pulled him close, cradling him against his body, ignoring the feeling of hot blood soaking in to his tunic. Red eyes, glazed with pain, squeezed shut for a moment. "Hurts," he whimpered.

Link nodded, squeezing his hand. "I'll find something," he said, voice shaking, "Hold on, I'll get you out of here, we'll be okay - I promise..."

And Sheik shook his head. His expression was less pained, more distant, now, paler than it had any rights to be, but he still laboured to raise a hand to touch Link's face. "Ana... sadir amah," he said, his voice barely audible, choking on the words, "Link," he whispered, "I'll see you again. Love you."

"I love you too," Link whispered back, squeezing his eyes shut, catching his hand and holding him close. "You... you'll be okay," he begged, "Please - hold on, I can stop this - we had so many plans, remember?"

"Yeah," Sheik whispered.

"We were going to go camping at the lake over the summer," he continued, voice trembling, "And I was going to teach you and Zelda how to fish, and we were going to hold races to the island... and we were going to climb Death Mountain, and then we were going to go back to school and we were going to get a place together when I turned eighteen, and Zelda could have her own room, and you were going to play in the Hyrule Symphony Orchestra and I'd be a champion fencer, and we were going to travel around the world and see all those places that we... Sheik? Sheik..."

And Sheik was still, chest ceasing its rising and falling, the blood no longer pumping out of his body, his face pale and bloodied and motionless.

Link clung to him like he was the last thing keeping him tied to this world, pressing urgent kisses against his hair and his forehead, his entire body shaking with the force of his sobbing. "Please come back," he whispered desperately, "Please, I love you, I don't wanna do this alone, Sheik, _please_... please..."

And then he just held him and cried, because there was no bringing him back.

It felt like an eternity to return from the deep dark pit he had found himself in. Tears drying on his cheeks, he lifted Sheik's body, cradling it close, lighter in death than it had ever been in life. His destination now was where Zelda was lying - the two had been so close to each other in life, it was only proper now that they should be so in death.

He laid Sheik's hand in Zelda's, briefly set his own atop both of theirs, and then turned back to Ganondorf. His sword was in hand, his expression blank - now, he was simply acting on autopilot, not wanting to think because thinking meant realising that Zelda and Sheik were dead.

"A heroic sacrifice," Ganondorf said soberly, leaning against a wall and simply watching. "The boy's death was unnecessary, although it's immaterial in the end."

Link didn't speak, all of his energy going in to fighting. Stab, parry, block; raise the shield to prevent a swing that would have taken off his head, fight for his life and to avenge them both.

Ganondorf twisted the blade, and his sword was hurled from his hand, landing somewhere behind him. Link leaped backwards, fingers closing around the hilt - it was slick with blood, now, both his own and Sheik's. He gripped it and lunged again.

"Why do you keep doing this?" Ganondorf asked quietly, blocking the swing with little difficulty. "Do you not want to see them again?"

And Link stopped. "What?"

"You did not listen," Ganondorf shrugged. "This place is a lie, and I have no more desire to stay here than you do. I can command the power of the Triforce - with it, I can return everything as it was."

Link stared up at him, eyes clouded. "What do you mean?" he whispered.

Ganondorf sheathed his sword and approached Link. He didn't move - partially in fear, partially because if there was a way to fix it, he would take it, no matter what.

"Your death," Ganondorf said quietly, "Would allow me to take the Triforce of Courage. And with it, everything will be restored to its rightful time and place. You will find yourself back in your true time, and everything that has happened here -" He swept an arm towards where Sheik and Zelda were laid out - "Will be a distant memory, and you will awaken unscathed."

Link swallowed. He could fix it, but it meant suicide - and what if he wasn't telling the truth? He would be condemning everyone to horror.

"Link," Ganondorf said quietly, "Think it through. If you win, you still must go on alone. Kakariko has fallen. Its populace have been killed or taken in to custody. Your loved ones are dead. Is this the world you wish to continue living in?"

And Link shook his head. "Everything will be restored?" he whispered.

"Everything."

"Then do it." And he closed his eyes as the Master Sword clattered from his hand.

Link barely felt the blade enter or exit his body - all he was aware of was the ground rising up to meet him, and of cold seeping through his body, and of pain that made him feel like he was being ripped apart.

And of two large gauntleted hands catching him before he could hit the ground, setting him down gently.

It hurt. He didn't feel like a Hero any more, not a legend, not someone worthy of wielding the Master Sword. He just felt like a kid - and he was cold, and in pain, and dying. Was this how Sheik had felt when he had died in his arms?

"Are you afraid, Link?" Ganondorf asked quietly from behind him, and Link shook his head with some effort. It was half a lie, but also half a truth - what was done was done. He would die, and nothing could stop that.

And he would see Sheik and Zelda again.

Those same big gauntleted hands were lifting him now, the world beneath him swinging and tipping as he was set back down on carpet. He just needed to open his eyes and he'd see them - Zelda, pale and still, Sheik, his blood-coated hand inches from Link's face. He reached out clumsily, pulled it close, and kissed it.

"You are more courageous than I, Link," Ganondorf said, and set a gentle hand against his forehead. "Now sleep."

And he did.


	16. An End and a Beginning

There was distant sunlight filtering in from high, dusty windows when Link began to stir.

He was stretched out on the plush carpet of the Temple of Time, hand closed around a bundle of enchanted arrows, a bright spark of blue light flitting and flying above his head.

For a moment, he gazed up at it sightlessly, slowly becoming aware of a high, frantic voice.

"- and she disappeared and you took a step and you just collapsed and you've been out for _hours_ and we've gotta save her and you made me _worry_ , you big meanie!"

And, quite suddenly, Link had an irate fairy attempting to bounce off his head.

He blinked again. "Navi?" he said slowly, almost uncertainly. That was her name, wasn't it? He hadn't seen her... well, ever, a lifetime of memory overriding it all.

No. Not a lifetime. However long the illusion had lasted.

"That's my name, don't wear it out!" she chirped, then her frantic bobbing stopped, coming to rest on the back of his gauntlet. "What's wrong?"

"I," he started, not really sure where to begin - _the Home the city the school Midna Ilia Aryll Zelda Sheik Ganondorf_... he raised a hand to his eyes, rubbing away the tears that had risen. _Sheik_...

"Not again," he whispered pleadingly, repeating his earlier words, "Please..." Because he hadn't remembered at the time, but he remembered now.

He had been returned, everything had been restored, and Sheik was still gone.

Gazing sightlessly at the point where Sheik had disappeared, he dropped his head and began inventorising his items. Master Sword - in its scabbard. Shield - on his back. Bow, light arrows, longshot, bottles of potion, bombs, ocarina... He held the little blue instrument and remembered duets in the forest, in the mountain, in the desert, and mourned for someone he hadn't even remembered he had already lost.

"Link," Navi said uncertainly, "We have to go rescue Princess Zelda!"

Standing, Link nodded, deliberately not looking back at the chamber where he had first seen calm red eyes fringed with gold, and set off with her to save the princess.

 

"It was designed for you, in the end."

The battle was over, Ganon's corpse gone, Ganondorf's mind sealed away in the Sacred Realm. He and Zelda sat on broken bits of rubble and watched the skies clear.

"What do you mean?" he asked dully.

Zelda ducked her head. "I heard whispers," she admitted, "Saying that that world had been made for you. Because you didn't want to fight, so they gave you somewhere where you could be happy." A grieved expression crossed her face. "And where you could lose everything to force you to fight when you were returned."

Link nodded, numb. He remembered it, didn't he? Seeing Zelda stolen away again, dropping to his knees, screaming that it was too much. He had lost Sheik, he had lost Zelda, and it had simply been too much.

And then sleep, and a warm presence, and then...

"I don't remember all of it," he admitted softly. "People I should know, yes, but there were people there that were important to me that I don't remember at all."

Zelda nodded - and a strange expression crossed her face. "But those we do remember," she said softly, "We should hold on to."

And she held out her hand.

"Give me the Ocarina of Time, Link," she said softly, and slowly, he dipped his hand in to the pouch holding it. Taking it from his hand, she linked her arm with his. "Hold on to me," she instructed.

He did, mindful of the blood and gore and grime that covered him. And Zelda raised the ocarina to her lips, and began to play a melody he recognised as the Nocturne of Shadow.

Before he knew it, they were standing at the entrance to the Shadow Temple.

Tucking the Ocarina away, Zelda took his hand, leading him to the altar in its central chamber. The white patterns marked on the ground almost seemed to glow, luminous in the darkness, shifting shadows caused by the flickering torches moving uneasily across the ground.

She knelt before it, and so did she.

"I call on the spirits of the Shadow Temple," she started, her voice soft and even, "As the last remaining member of the Royal Family of Hyrule."

There was a sudden chilled breeze. Link felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

And then there was a whisper. "What would you order us do, Royal Daughter?" it asked, coming from all around them.

Hands splayed flat on the altar, Zelda raised her gaze to the ceiling and asked, "I would ask for the return of one who aided me to freedom and life."

And suddenly, Link realised what she was doing, what she was doing for _him_. His breath caught, moving one hand to cover hers, raising his gaze to the same spot. If she needed him to back up her words, he would do it in an instant.

And a many-voiced whisper returned, "This is a great ask, Royal Daughter."

Zelda swallowed hard, and Link squeezed her hand. "Please," he found himself whispering in return, "Please..."

He had already lost Sheik three times over, today. He had disappeared from the Temple of Time, he had died in his arms, he had had to remember his disappearance all over again. He didn't want to make it a fourth.

"Please," Zelda echoed, closing her eyes to hide the tears threatening to fall, tone of voice immediately losing its solemn tone and simply sounding like the girl he had drank coffee with in the park. "Impa, I beg you, give him back to us."

For a moment, there was silence. And then, a faint breeze picking up his hair and teasing his skin, and the faintest hint of lyre music - Zelda's Lullaby, he recognised it as.

Slowly, Link opened his eyes. Stretched out on the altar was Sheik, as solid as the young man who he had seen in a volcano, at the lake, in the village, as real as the boy he had swapped notes with at school, had kissed in abandoned corners, had seen in his bed, tanned skin against white sheets and what could only be described as love in his eyes.

For a moment, there was complete silence.

And then Sheik drew in a shaky breath.

" _Sheik_ ," Zelda choked, practically tackling him with her enthusiasm, clinging to him like he might disappear any second. Sheik's wide red eyes were dazed, not quite comprehending what had happened yet, not quite understanding yet.

And then his gaze landed on Link's, and recognition flooded back.

Silently, he extracted one arm from his embrace of Zelda, holding it out for him. And suddenly, there was no need to mourn any more, no more hesitation or fear or uncertainty, his grief gone in an instant as he held Sheik close and didn't let go.

"The world might have changed," he whispered, repeating the words Sheik had written in his letter a lifetime ago. "My feelings for you have not."

There were tears in Sheik's eyes. "Link," he whispered hoarsely, and then pulled him down for a fierce kiss, so much passion and love in it that it nearly sent Link reeling. "Link," he repeated as they broke apart, "Zelda, you... you brought me back?"

Zelda nodded, her face still buried against Sheik's shoulder, quite unable to stop her own tears.

"Your contract has come to an end, Sheikah," came a voice recognisable as Impa's, and the love there was evident as well - Zelda raised her head, a brilliant smile on her face. "And you are free."

"Free," Sheik whispered, an expression on his face of deepest wonder, "I'm... free?"

The whispers touched their skin like a farewell, and they were gone.

Zelda laughed shakily. "You are," she said, beaming.

"Then I would like to spend my freedom with you," he replied to both of them, slipping one hand in to Link's and the other in to Zelda's. "We have a life time, now."

And they stood, and, hand in hand, rose up the temple steps to step in to the light.

**The End**


End file.
